


Sweetest Subterfuge

by buttsbeyondbutts



Series: 1920s A/B/O Verse [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Cora Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Courtship, Demisexual Derek Hale, Emotional Abuse, F/F, Flappers, Forbidden Love, Knotting, Mates, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Lydia Martin, Past Character Death, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Physical Abuse, Prize Fights, Prohibition, Swearing, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 23:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 45,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3268466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttsbeyondbutts/pseuds/buttsbeyondbutts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Shut up, you're perfect," Lydia said, and pressed her lips to the space between Cora's breasts. "I won't allow anyone to insult my mate like that."</p><p> </p><p>Cora pulled her close, kissing her hair so Lydia wouldn't see her expression. Lydia threw the word around like she didn't know what it meant sometimes. Mates got married and had children. They didn't meet in secret in a dirty speakeasy, to fuck before someone noticed they were gone. Some rich boy would marry Lydia eventually and she'd disappear from Cora's life. She didn't mind it, so long as she didn't think about it. She was a female alpha, a mistake of genetics. Alpha girls didn’t have mates, certainly not Lydia Martin, with half of Beacon Hills as a dowry.  As long as she didn't think of it, she could enjoy what she had, Lydia's sweet scent mixing with hers, that beautiful voice begging for her touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> More Tags as fic continues  
> 

The sweet scent of violets cut through the stench of bootleg liquor and blood. The blood wasn't hers. It belonged to the mustachioed man swaying in front of her. His eyes were closed, his bare fist still raised.

 _Fall, you dumb motherfucker,_ Cora thought, punching him again. The violet was stronger now, close and distracting. The fight was over anyway. She just needed Schmitty to fall down and she could get to that scent. Blood spattered against her fist and Schmitty stumbled back, finally falling.

"Victory to the Alpha Bitch!" The announcer, and proprietor of the underground speakeasy, Camden Lahey, raised her arm, still locked in a fist. "What a blood bath! Take yer winnings at the bar! Alpha Bitch is the winner!"

Cora took half a second to tell him she'd grab her cut of the fight in the morning before hopping the ropes into the crowd to search for violets.

Lydia stood the moment she saw her, smoothing down her navy blue dress. Cora pulled her close, burying her face in long fiery hair. The shouting, the stale stench of booze and vomit, the flickering gas lamps and cheap whores disappeared around them, replaced with violets, red hair and Lydia's voice, rough with desire, whispering her name.

"What are you doing here?" Cora asked. She couldn't resist the urge to scrape her teeth over the ivory skin of her lover's neck.

"I need you," Lydia said, frantically rubbing against her, her hands in Cora's hair. Cora could feel her wet soak through as Lydia humped her trouser leg, if the assault on her nose wasn’t proof enough.

"You came here smelling like that?" Cora growled. "Are you nuts? Do you have any idea-"

"No one noticed," Lydia lied. Enough of the men around her were glancing over their shoulders, frowning, trying to put a face with that intoxicating smell. Cora would kill the first one who tried. "No one cared. They know I'm yours. Please, Cora! I need you," her voice rose into a high whine as she pulled Cora's hand down to press into her skirts.

"Not here," Cora said, giving her a quick bite. She couldn't tell if it was meant as a punishment or something to tide Lydia over. "I've got a room."

"Good," Lydia whined impatiently.

The two women slipped through the crowd. Cora pulled Lydia close to her side. God, how did she even get there like this? The heat radiated off her. The scent of violets covered everything.

They didn't make it halfway up the stairs before Cora had to push her up against  the wall, rubbing as close as she could. "Yes, please. Please, please, please, please," Lydia begged, "Touch me, Cora, touch me!"

"Am touchin' you," Cora said, kissing her hard to shut her up. Lydia welcomed her in, clenching her hair in tiny white fists. Cora knew how she liked it. Lydia wanted to be invaded whenever they kissed, especially when she was in heat. Cora bit her hard, marking violently and immediately soothing the red marks with little flicks of her tongue. Lydia moaned beneath her. She hiked her leg up around Cora's waist. Sweet slick soaked into Cora's trousers, wet and warm. 

"Did you just come from kissing?" Cora's lips brushed against Lydia's as she spoke. The rich girl nodded, her face flushed. Cora kissed her again, gentle this time on her wrecked lips. "Any of your asshole suitors ever make you come like that?"

She shook her head. "Never, they could never," her green eyes were hazy, staring down at Cora like she was some golden idol. "You know they can't. I'm yours."

"You're mine," She agreed, kissing her again.

"Please," Lydia whispered, "Cora, fuck me? I need you to fuck me..."

"C'mon," Cora said, pulling her off the wall, "I want you in my bed,"

Lydia went eagerly enough, though navigating the staircase proved difficult with her nibbling on Cora's ear and pressing her fingers into her crotch. They managed to get inside and lock the door before she completely pulled off her skirt, pushing her fingers into her own soaking cunt.

"None of that," Cora reprimanded, pushing her onto the bed. "That's mine."

"Take it then," Lydia moaned, pushing her fingers roughly inside and fucking herself as hard as she could. "I need you, Cora, and you won't fucking touch me!"

"Christ, you're bossy," Cora said, kneeling in front of her. "You want fingers or tongue?"

"Tongue," Lydia writhed against the mattress scooting towards her. "Tongue, tongue, tongue,"

Just as well. She still had Scmitty's blood on her knuckles. Heat Lydia might want Cora inside her at any cost but Normal Lydia would murder her. 

Besides, oral sex meant she could bury herself in that violet scented cunt. Cora breathed in deep and ran her tongue along the length of Lydia's thigh. Long strands of soft red pubic hair tickled at her nose. She pressed her mouth against the sopping clit, taking it the same way she took Lydia's mouth on the stairs. Thin, muscled legs wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her in tight. Lydia's fingers, still wet with her own slick, pushed her hair from eyes. Her face was flushed, bright red as her, her lips parted to gasp as Cora pushed her tongue into the soft jewel of her clit.

"Cora," she moaned. Her entire body shook as another orgasm passed through her. Cora lapped it up eagerly, the salt and warmth of Lydia's slick filling her the way nothing else could.

"You're so good at this," Lydia muttered, brushing her fingers over Cora's brow, "God, do you know how long I wait for this? You ruined me... You fucking ruined me... God!" She leaned forward, shaking, her arms clenched tight around Cora. 

Cora kissed her softly, gently licking the come out of the dark red crevices of Lydia's womanhood. The rich girl trembled above her, finally relaxing enough to let her slide up onto the bed. 

"You good?" She asked, pressing another kiss into Lydia's neck, "For a little bit?"

Lydia nodded, apparently unable to speak. Cora pushed down her on the bed. She still wore her plain, white blouse, somewhat rumpled from their activities. Cora leaned over her, admiring the tangled mess of her hair and the swell of her bright red lips. Her fingers played idly with the buttons, pushing each on free with tender deference. Lydia wore a pale beige brassiere with floral lace. 

"You're so fucking beautiful," Cora murmured, lowering herself down to press her cheek on the soft curve of Lydia's breast. "So beautiful when you're spread out for me."

"Cora," Lydia said her name like a prayer.

Cora kissed her. "My sweet little omega," she whispered, licking the sweat front Lydia's cheek. "I want to take you in the streets, make you come for hours so everyone can see how fucking beautiful you are like this."

"So they know I'm yours..." Lydia murmured, turning to press against her. Cora nodded, taking the opportunity to undo the clasps on the back of the brassiere. Beautiful as the garment was, it had nothing on Lydia's naked flesh. 

"So they know you're mine," she agreed, tracing the delicate bones of her back, "so they know exactly what they're missing... Your boring little rich boys will die of jealousy."

Serves them right for thinking they had any right to you, she thought bitterly. Lydia nuzzled close into her. 

"I wanna see you," she muttered, glaring at the hem of Cora's shirt like it insulted her entire family. "Why aren't you naked?"

"I had a bossy omega princess to satisfy," Cora said, pulling the shirt over her head and tossing it to the floor. Lydia frowned at the bandage around her breasts, stained with sweat and bit of blood.

"Are you hurt?" She asked, her lips pressing into a pout.

"No way, doll," Cora said, unwinding the cloth. "Just makes the fight easier without anything flapping around."

"I can get you proper undergarments," Lydia said,    "This can't be healthy."

"It’s fine, Lydia. Mine ain’t as nice as yours. They wouldn't look good in lace."

"Shut up, you're perfect," Lydia said, and pressed her lips to the space between Cora's breasts. "I won't allow anyone to insult my mate like that." 

Cora pulled her close, kissing her hair so Lydia wouldn't see her expression. Lydia threw the word around like she didn't know what it meant sometimes. Mates got married and had children. They didn't meet in secret in a dirty speakeasy, to fuck before someone noticed they were gone. Some rich boy would marry Lydia eventually and she'd disappear from Cora's life. She didn't mind it, so long as she didn't think about it. She was a female alpha, a mistake of genetics. Alpha girls didn’t have mates, certainly not Lydia Martin, with half of Beacon Hills as a dowry.  As long as she didn't think of it, she could enjoy what she had, Lydia's sweet scent mixing with hers, that beautiful voice begging for her touch. 

"Cora," Lydia groaned against her, already anxious for another round. 

"Okay," Cora whispered, pulling back. She leaned in lower, pressing a gentle kiss to each of Lydia's breasts. She pinched the warm rose colored nipples between thumb and forefinger. She licked carefully, watching the omega girl’s lashes flutter,  listening to her breath come in short, barely escaping gasps. Her breasts fit perfectly into Cora’s palm, incredibly soft and warm to the touch. The goose bumps were already rising in the cool of the little room. Lydia grunted, guiding Cora's mouth to her nipple, instructing her to suck. Cora obeyed eagerly. Lydia writhed beneath her, whispering praise and stroking Cora's hair. 

"Yes, mark me..." She gasped as the alpha's teeth sunk into her flesh. Cora could mark freely here, leave bruises that wouldn't fade in a few hours. They were for her and Lydia alone. She alternated between each of Lydia's breasts, idly playing with her nipples and enjoying the heat of skin on skin.

"God, Cora!" Lydia cried, biting hard at her neck.  Violet filled the room again. It wasn’t really violet. Cora couldn’t describe the scent of Lydia’s come properly in words. It was sweet but musky, warm and thick in her nostrils. Violet came the closest but no flower could ever compare to that sweet omega slick pouring out of Lydia Martin, mixing with the come spewing out from just touching her nipples.

Cora kissed her cheek. Lydia panted against her. “More,” she whispered, “Please, more,”

“You’re insatiable.”

“Touch me,” Lydia whined. “I want your fingers… I wanna feel your knot,”

Cora snorted. “You get off on that?”

Lydia nodded enthusiastically. “I wanna feel you grab me.”

Her alpha cunt squeezed at the mere thought of it. Like all alphas, Cora’s biology allowed her to prolong the act of mating when sufficiently aroused. Men got their knots, a thick bulge at the end of their cocks that prevented them from pulling out. Women had vaginas that tightened like a vise. A proper knot, a man’s knot, would be a mark of mating and fill his omega with babies to pop free eight months after the wedding. Cora’s knot would just stick her and Lydia together for a couple of hours. It didn’t mean anything, most people didn’t even acknowledge it was there.

The prospect of holding Lydia for hours, her delicate fingers squeezed into Cora’s sex and unable to escape, did have its appeal. Cora’s cunt was already flexing and constricting back in the ring, the moment she caught Lydia’s scent, waiting for something to hold on to. Now that Lydia was fumbling with her belt and zipper, her womanhood practically screamed to be touched.

“Please, Cora…” Lydia whined softly in her ear. “Touch me. Let me touch you.”

“Alright,” Cora whispered back. She wriggled out of her trousers, making sure to wipe her hands as best she could before kicking them to the floor. Lydia dove down, pulling down her underwear. She breathed in deep, like Cora’s pussy was a bouquet of roses.

“Alpha,” she purred, placing a reverent kiss in the black curls of pubic hair. Her tongue flicked out, hesitantly lapping at the very tip of Cora’s clit. Her pussy seized up, a heady reek of pheromones exploding at even the slightest contact. Cora grabbed Lydia by the shoulders, pulling her up to face her.

“None of that,” she warned, the command slipping from her voice without intention. Lydia moaned and tilted her head to offer her long, beautiful neck in apology. Cora couldn’t resist that. She buried her face in the exposed skin, sucking hard until red marks appeared. “None of that,” she whispered, chewing on Lydia’s earlobe. “You’d suffocate down there, you fucking slut,”

“I want to,” Lydia moaned. “I wanna choke on it. I wanna swallow everything and it still won’t be enough. I wanna be with you forever.”

Cora growled, kissing her hard on the lips. She had to stop that obscene trail of lies before it went to her head and she was locking Lydia up here forever, chaining her to the bed and fucking her until neither of them could see or think or move. Her fingers curled around the bright red hairs, spreading out to find that violet clit.

“Cora!” Lydia practically screamed when she found it. She bit down hard on Cora’s lips, trying to muffle it. “Stop distracting me! I wanna feel you, damnit!”

“You really want me to stop?” Cora chuckled as she played in the slick of Lydia’s head.

“No,” she said, pouting again. “but you gotta let me- let me- ah!”

She pushed her fingers inexpertly into Cora’s cunt, feeling around until the wet alpha sex began to constrict around her hand. “You’re so good!” she cried, pushing in closer, “You feel so good, Cora!”

Cora’s pussy squeezed. She could feel the whole of Lydia’s hand inside her, wriggling like it couldn’t get enough. She pushed in deeper, muffling a scream into Lydia’s hair. She came hard, with Lydia moaning her name.

“Fuck,” Cora whispered. She still had her fingers on Lydia’s clit. She ought to be rubbing, helping her omega get off again. It was a duty, a pleasure that most women Alphas didn’t get to fulfill. All she could do was shake though, weak from orgasm and still half drunk on Lydia’s scent.

“My Alpha,” Lydia whispered, stroking Cora’s hair, “My beautiful Alpha.”

“Sorry,” Cora managed after a long while, “Can you get your hand out?”

“I don’t want to,” Lydia said. She kissed Cora’s forehead. “I wanna be stuck to you. I want you in me.”

That wouldn’t help her knot release anytime soon. “Lydia…” Cora wanted to chastise her but it felt so right to be holding her like this. She circled her other arm around the omega’s slim shoulder and pulled her closer, so their foreheads pressed together. She flexed her fingers weakly against Lydia’s sex, gently pushing inside.

“You don’t gotta,” Lydia whispered, kissing her lazily. “I just wanna be in you and you in me… you don’t gotta work.” Somewhat contradictorily she rubbed up on Cora’s fingers but the alpha didn’t call her on it. Cora probably could have fallen asleep like that.

“You staying?” She asked, her eyelids drooping.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” Lydia whispered sadly.  Her heat had lessened through four orgasms, though it was still pushing up to the surface. She seemed more lucid now, fucking herself on Cora’s fingers while they kissed. The gentle rhythm pushed Lydia’s other hand up against Cora’s knot, making it tighten even worse. Lydia came again with a soft whimper and rested quietly against her.

“Early?” Cora asked.

“Father thinks I’m at Allison’s,” Lydia shook her head. “I can probably stay for a while but no later than ten.”

“I’ll walk you,” Cora said, “back to Allison’s.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Cora breathed in deep, the sweet fading scent of violet. “Don’t know when I’m gonna see you again.”

Lydia nuzzled close to her neck, ending with a soft kiss. “Soon,” she promised, “soon.”

They fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! I have been waiting for this for so long, you guys....
> 
> You may have noticed this doesn't quite fit into the traditional A/B/O fic standard. Basically there are a lot of A/B/O fics but not enough of them are about girls liking girls so I decided to experiment and it turned into this thing. I wanted to explore the idea of people with vaginas knotting because why should the people with penises get all the fun. I think it came out pretty well, dare I say, original. In any case, it turned into this whole thing and I am pretty excited about it. 
> 
> So, yeah, stay tuned. Please review and I'll post another chap next week since I have a buffer for once in my life.


	2. Chapter 2

They were still inside each other when Lydia woke up. Cora's knot had released her sometime during the night. Lydia pulled her hand out of her mate carefully. Cora grunted and snuggled closer but she didn't wake.

Lydia's fingers were wrinkled and still smelled strongly of Cora, her dark salty musk. Lydia licked the final drops of come from her skin with appropriate reverence. She wished Cora would let her go down on her. The idea that she'd suffocate on her mate’s knot was ludicrous, some kind of propaganda from stuffy old alpha men who thought their love was a sin. She could breathe through her nose, couldn't she? If Lydia had to die, choking on Cora Hale was the way she wanted to go.

Cora looked younger when she slept, without the scowl or lines of frustration. Lydia knew she should go. If she stayed much longer, Cora would wake up again and they'd end up having sex. If they had sex, they'd probably fall asleep together again and the cycle could go on for days. Her dear Allison would have to invent another pressing social function she absolutely had to attend to make up for Lydia's absence. She'd done it before.

Cora woke soon enough. She stretched sleepily and groaned. Her eyes meet Lydia’s, gorgeous brown and still blurry from sleep. She smiled at Lydia and gently curved her fingers inside of her. Lydia shivered, and forced herself to whisper, “No.”

Cora withdrew. “You don’t want to?” She looked hurt for a brief second until she blinked and her face was stone again.

“I do want to,” Lydia said and kissed her gently, placating, “but I have to go.”

Cora wrapped her arms around Lydia’s shoulders, pulling her close. Her soft round breasts pressed up against Lydia’s like they belonged there. They did. She and Cora belonged here, intertwined together in a pool of their own slick and come, reeking of each other and perfectly, perfectly happy. Lydia breathed in deep, enjoying the smell of them, the soft brush of Cora’s hair on her face.

“I have to go,” she said again.

“I know.” Cora muttered. Her hands squeezed around Lydia’s shoulders and pulled away, leaving her cold and lonely.

Cora was up in a moment, tracking down their clothing. Lydia took a minute to admire her mate’s gorgeous form. Cora was slender, with small, perky breasts and visible muscles taut on her arms and legs. Her skin was browned slightly from too many hours in the sun but stark ivory where her clothes covered her. Her brown hair was slightly longer than was fashionable but much shorter than Lydia’s parents would ever have allowed, ending just below her shoulders. Lydia’s revelry was cut short by a brassiere flying in her face.

“I can’t find your panties,” Cora said, pulling her own up over her knees.  

“I didn’t wear any,” Lydia said, hooking the brassiere into place.

“Jesus Christ,” Cora pushed her hair back and stared at Lydia, “Are you fucking screwy? You came down here, by yourself, in the middle of your heat without any goddamn panties? Do you have any idea what could have happened?”

“I know what didn’t happen,” Lydia said.  “I told you, nobody bothered me.”

“You’re not stupid, Lydia,” Cora snapped, pulling on her trousers, “Don’t act like it.”

“Lay off,” Lydia grumbled. She found her blouse hanging off the side of the bed and pulled it over her shoulders. “I get enough safety lectures from my parents every time I leave the house. Nothing happened.”

“What if something did?” Cora pulled up her trousers. All the fire was gone from her voice, replaced with concern. “I need you to be safe…” She scowled and reached for her shirt, a man’s black A-shirt. She tied her hair back into a ponytail and shoved it under her hat. “Get dressed. We gotta go.”

Lydia obeyed, biting back further arguments. However much Cora might whine about whatever imagined risks Lydia took to be there, she’d never turn her away. Lydia’s mate loved her.

They walked together, arm and arm through the dirty city streets. The street lamps were still lit against the faint first blues of the sky before the sun rose. It rained sometime in the night before, giving the city a clean scent.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” Lydia said, pressing a gentle kiss into Cora’s cheek, “but I won’t apologize for coming to you. I needed you.”

Cora snorted but pulled Lydia a little closer, possessive and preening. “You alright now?”

“Peachy,” Lydia said, “at least it’s manageable, with Allison.”

“Allison,” Cora said, glancing at Lydia fondly, “Should I be jealous?”

Lydia snorted. “Of Allison? Probably.”

“Probably?” Cora repeated, poking her ribs in mock outrage. “Probably?!”

Lydia giggled and pushed her away, only to snuggle in close again. “Allison is a lovely young lady, incredibly accomplished, of good family,”

“Bootleggers,” Cora scoffed.  

“A fine family,” Lydia insisted, “She’s sweet and loyal, a delight to be around.”

“Is she, now?”

“Yes,” Lydia confirmed, nuzzling into Cora’s neck. “But she can’t make me come like you can.”

“Christ,” Cora flushed a bright red. “I thought your heat was over.”

She shook her head. “Just placated for a bit. You help me through it, at least long enough to keep my parents from suspecting.”

“Can’t believe you’ve been lying all this time,” Cora said, “You’re supposed to be some sweet omega virgin princess.”

“Well,” Lydia said, circling her arm around Cora’s waist. “I have it on good authority that I am a sweet omega… and a princess.”

“Not a virgin?” Cora grinned, “Guess I did my job right.”

“Perfectly,” she meant it to be flirtatious but it came out sad. These were always bitter sweet moments, like the fleeting nights they stole during Lydia’s heat. If Cora was a man, they’d be spending the week together, fucking until pressure became paradise, utterly lost in each other. They wouldn’t have to meet clandestinely for hurried nights in shoddy hotel rooms. She could go to Cora’s home and stay there for the rest of her life. She could meet Cora’s family and Lydia’s parents would be delighted that she’d found such a strong, loving alpha all on her own, instead of ashamed of their pointless union.

Of course, if Cora were a man, Lydia’s parents would be demanding grandchildren with every other breath. Her mate’s children would certainly be preferable to any of the suitors paraded before Lydia day in and day out since she came of age but they’d still be children. They’d still have to grow inside her body and be cared for above all else for the rest of her life. No amount of parental approval could make that notion any more palatable.

“You’re quiet,” Cora remarked, gently squeezing her shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing important,” Lydia said. She’d never asked if Cora wanted children. In truth, Lydia feared the answer. Female alphas were physically barren but she might wish to adopt and that would… change things that should never be changed.

“What is it?”

“I just wish we could stay together longer,” she said, truthfully. “Allison’s wonderful… she keeps me from losing my mind but you’re-” you’re my mate and Beta pheromones will only dull an omega’s heat, not relieve it. You’re the only one who can do it. You’re my mate. She sighed deeply.

“I know,” Cora squeezed her arm, the closest display affection she would risk this close to uptown. “Me too.”

“Are you fighting tonight?” Lydia asked.

“If I can,” Cora shrugged, “We need the money.”

“I could-”

“No, Lydia, I’m not taking your money.”

“It’s Father’s money,” Lydia shrugged, “I only spend it.”

“I don’t want his money either,” Cora said. “I can handle myself, same as you, princess.”

“Fine,” it was an old argument anyway. “When can I see you again?”

“Got a scheduled fight day after tomorrow on 12th street,” She said, “probably have a drink or two afterwards.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“Bring Allison with you,” Cora said.

“I’ll try,” they stopped, hand in hand in front of the back gate of the Argent townhouse. Cora glanced up at the brownstone, frowning. “Thank you,” Lydia murmured, “for last night.”

“You ain’t gotta thank me,” Cora said, running her thumb over Lydia’s knuckles. “any time, any time you need me… I’ll be there.”

Lydia nodded, blinking back tears. “You’ll be safe?” she asked, “until I see you again.”

Cora smiled, her eyes crinkling at the edges.  “’Course, doll, you know me, big strong Alpha.”

“My big strong alpha.” She smiled back.

“Yours,” Cora agreed and Lydia wanted to kiss her so badly in that moment. Cora would pull away though and she didn’t think she could bare that. Instead she squeezed her hand and prayed it would be enough. They stood in silence as a California drizzle began to fall from the grey morning sky.

“I’ll see you in two days?” Lydia said, regretfully pushing open the back gate.

“Two days,” Cora watched her slip passed the black iron bars and into the Argent’s kitchen garden.

Allison’s bedroom was located on the side of the house, with a small trellis of ivy by her window. Lydia climbed with a practiced ease to the second floor where her best friend in the world took her rest. The window was unlocked. Lydia slipped soundlessly into the Argent house.

The room reeked of sex. Most of the blankets had been kicked to the floor and Allison herself, black hair strewn wildly across pure ivory linens, lay entwined with a beautiful brown skinned man who nuzzled sleepily against her neck.

Lydia coughed.

The man woke first, startling violently and pulling the sheet up around him. Brilliant brown eyes met hers, filled with panic. She smiled, waving nervously. He looked like he was about to bolt.

“Allison,” the brown eyed man, a beta by the smell of him, shook his lover gently on the shoulder. Allison groaned softly and wrapped her arms around his waist, hiding her face in the sheets against his chest.

“Allison.” Lydia said in a louder voice. Her best friend jumped and pushed her hair out her eyes. She relaxed slightly when she saw Lydia though her paramour still seemed terrified.

“Lydia…” she stifled a yawn, “you’re back…early?”

“It’s nearly nine,” Lydia said, “though I suppose you had a late night?”

“Mmm,” Allison agreed, sliding up into a sitting position. She didn’t bother dragging the sheets with her as she pressed her milk white breasts to the nervous man’s arm and kissed his neck. “Lydia, this is Scott McCall. Scott, this is my best friend, Lydia Martin.”

“Hello,” Scott McCall’s voice was shaky. His eyes flitted about the room like a trapped animal.

“Charmed,” Lydia stifled a giggle. “Allison, dear, I think I’ll go and change in the lavatory, if that’s alright.”

“Of course, Lydia, I placed your bag by the door.”

“Thank you, darling,” Lydia picked up the small traveling bag she used  when visiting and disappeared into the bathroom. She took her time disrobing, enjoying the needless panic in Scott McCall’s voice.

“Your father’s going to shoot me,” he moaned softly, voice somewhat muffled as if he were holding his head in his hands. “Oh Christ, he’s going to shoot me.”

“No one is shooting anyone,” Allison said briskly. “Lydia is my dearest and oldest friend. She would never betray us. I’d intended to introduce the two of you soon anyway.”

“Even if she doesn’t…god, Allison, you smell like me,”

“I know,” she purred and Lydia heard the unmistakable silence of a long, tender kiss.

“They’re going to know that we-” Scott apparently broke the kiss. Perhaps he wasn’t quite deserving of her dear Allison’s affection, “that we-”

“We had sex, Scott,” Allison said fondly. “It was wonderful and shall be repeated just as soon as I can get away. My father won’t know a thing about it until I want him to.” She paused, deliberating, “Probably after the wedding. Scott, are you alright?”

He had apparently dropped something or perhaps he fainted. Lydia felt somewhat light headed herself. Allison found a mate and didn’t tell me!?

“You wanna get married?” Scott asked so softly that she could barely hear him.

“Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do, Allison!” Lydia was pleased to note the appropriate amount of eagerness in Mr. McCall’s response, “but I’m not- I can’t give you-”

Allison chuckled, “Scott, you’re my mate. That’s all I need.”

Then they were kissing again and Lydia took her cue to climb into the shower. The Argent’s home was more modern than her own. Hot water spurted from the shower head by shear mechanics. No need to wait for a maid to heat the water for a bath as they did in the Martin household and yet another excellent reason to use Allison as an Alibi when she visited Cora.  Much as she might prefer to smell like her mate for hours, for days after they left one another, it would mean too many questions. A long shower and copious use of the overpowering soaps she’d brought along and Lydia was as pristine as her father imagined her.

By the time she emerged from the bathroom, Scott and Allison were dressed and looking thoroughly debauched. Scott offered a shy smile and held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Lydia.”

“Likewise,” his handshake was firm, strong, only just undeserving of Allison, “I do wish I’d had more time to look forward to it.”

“It wasn’t as if I didn’t want to,” Alison said, twirling her finger in Scott’s dark hair, “I was just waiting for the right time.”

“When you wanted to,” Lydia supplied.

“Now,” Allison glared at her best friend. “Scott’s going to be a veterinarian,” she beamed proudly.

“I’m only an assistant,” he said, glancing at his feet with a small smile. “Doctor Deaton said he would write me a letter of recommendation for the night school in the fall.”

“And how did the two of you meet?” Lydia asked, “At some secret society, no doubt? With passcodes and masks so that no best friends would ever be able to discover what went on in the underground tunnels?”

“It was a political meeting, yes.” Allison said, “The Society for the Advancement of Women and Omegas of Beacon Hills, above ground , very well lit. Scott was hiding in the back.”

He nodded. “My mother wished to attend.”

Lydia raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you support the cause of women and omegas yourself, Mr. McCall?” Being both a woman and an omega, Lydia had a deep desire to attend the SAWO meetings herself. The ladies, mostly Betas like Allison, had secured suffrage for Beta women and Omega men five years ago, in 1919, just after the end of the Great War. Allison attended regularly with the full support of her mother and aunt, and even the begrudging acceptance of her father and grandfather. Ambivalence towards silly societal rules and expectations was the upside to having a family so steeped in crime as the Argents were.  Lydia’s father still ranted about the SAWO women and how it was a slippery slope to societal chaos. He’d often said that any woman of his caught attending such a meeting would be immediately sent to hospital until she regained her sanity. Much as she’d love actually represent women omegas at the meetings for their advancement (Allison had reported that Beta women and Omega men were the only regular attendants in an icy irritated tone that only made Lydia love her all the more) Lydia couldn’t risk her father’s ire for anything that wasn’t Cora.

“Lydia,” Allison frowned at her.

“I do,” Scott said, quickly, “Wholeheartedly, I do. It’s only… those meeting are for women and omegas… I wouldn’t be wanted… or needed.”

It was very close to an acceptable answer. Lydia smiled. For her part, Allison wrapped her slender arm around his waist and pulled him close to her side. “You were very wanted, Scott,” she murmured, nuzzling at his neck. A lovely pink blush rose to his dark cheeks. He watched her with soft, adoring brown eyes, like she was the best thing he’d ever seen. Lydia felt a lump rise in her throat. Quite frankly, they were disgusting.

Allison and Scott’s revelry was cut short by the sound of pipes springing to life above them. Mrs. Argent was preparing for her morning bath which meant breakfast would soon be served and Allison and Lydia would need to attend. Allison closed her eyes and rested her cheek on Scott’s shoulder. His broad, careful hand reached up to stroke her ebony hair as he murmured words of comfort. He kissed her, letting his lips rest against hers as though that alone would satisfy him for the rest of his life.

Lydia turned away. She had the distinct feeling that she was interrupting something, that somehow this moment was more private, more intimate than the afterglow she’d stumbled in upon only moments before. She missed Cora. She could almost feel the brush of her mate’s thumb against her knuckles but it was a phantom touch, nothing to sooth the need inside of her.

“I’ll see you soon?” Allison said, in a small voice that Lydia had never heard before. “You’ll be safe?”

“Of course,” he said, “A couple of days, at the most. I love you.”

She kissed him again, harder, her fingers curled in his hair. “I love you too.”

Lydia couldn’t quite bring herself to keep her eyes on the floor. Scott stumbled back once Allison saw fit to release him, looking a bit drunker than he had before. He went to the window with a small wave to Lydia. “It was nice to meet you,” he said, eyes still dreamily fixed to Allison.

“Likewise,” Lydia suppressed a giggle. “I hope I’ll see you soon, Scott.”

He nodded and slipped through the open window with another kiss on Allison’s cheek. She sighed a little, watching him disappear into the street and bolted the window behind him.

Lydia was on her in a moment, squealing with delight and hugging her fiercely. “Allison Argent! I am so cross with you, I shall squeeze you in half! How could you not tell me you found a mate!? I told you!”

“I was there when you met Cora!” Allison laughed, “Besides, I couldn’t tell anyone, no matter how much I wanted to!”

“Now that makes absolutely no sense!” Lydia exclaimed. “You’re a beta woman, he’s a beta man! There’s no great power keeping you apart! Oh, your father might complain a little that he’s a veterinarian and you didn’t wait until the wedding but he’ll get over that! Scott is wonderful! Very nearly good enough for you, if anyone can be!”

“He is wonderful,” Allison smiled, glancing to the window as if she could still see him if she only looked at the right moment. Her eyes were too sad though.

“And you are avoiding the question,” Lydia said, “why can’t you tell anyone about Scott?”

“His father is a G man,” Allison said in a serious voice. “Ralph McCall, the one investigating my grandfather.”

Lydia nodded, understanding engulfing her all at once. For a moment, “Oh,” was all she could say. Then; “Allison, you don’t think-”

She shook her head. “Scott doesn’t even speak to his father anymore. He and his mother live with another man, a sheriff.”

“Allison-”

“No,” she said firmly, “he didn’t even know who my family was until I told him. If he’s lying then I must be blind, deaf and dumb.”

“Well, you’re certainly not any of those things,” Lydia agreed. “Alright, I understand why you didn’t tell me. I don’t like it and I will begrudge you for it until the two of you make me a godmother of some tousle haired brunette with your dimples and his eyes.”

Allison smiled, “it’s a bit early to be thinking of children.”

“But you are, aren’t you?”

She nodded excitedly, biting her lower lip.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Scott and Allison! Just note that Ralph McCall is Rafael McCall. He changed his name because the police/fbi were super racist/ethnocentric in the 1920s!


	3. Chapter 3

 

Cora returned to bar, still reveling in Lydia’s scent on her fingertips. The musky violet odor faded by the time she reached the bar. By this time, Lahey’s posed as a family restaurant to keep the cops away. She waited around the back for the proprietor. An alpha woman didn’t exactly fit in with the family label.

“Any fights tonight?” Cora asked, counting out her winnings. She’d done well, kicking Schmitty’s ass. Fifty dollars could pay her and Derek’s rent for the month. Cora’d been fighting nearly three years now and people still bet against her. Everyone loved to underestimate an alpha woman.

Mr. Lahey nodded. “A couple scheduled. You could stick around for the winners if you felt like it.”

“Who’s up?”

“Rex O’Toole and Two Bit McCoy first, then we got Jaime Coffin and Black Boyd.”

Cora grinned, “Boyd’s back in town!?”

Lahey raised an eyebrow. “Surprised you weren’t the first to know. You still chummy with that blond Betty he used to hang around with?”

“Erica, yeah,” Cora smiled, remembering her own best friend, horribly absent for the last month. “Don’t know about ‘used to’ either, considering she went with him when they left town.”

Lahey frowned. “You know if they’re still together? Lotta folks were irritated last time they was in here.”

Cora closed her eyes, the money crumpling as her hands went into involuntary fists. She owed Camden Lahey Senior. He’d given her her first fight, way back in 1921, just after Laura passed. Those fights, and the career she built out of them, paid for her brothers’ hospital bills, her uncle’s drinking and kept her and Derek off the streets. Owing a man didn’t make him any less of a scumbag though. She had little doubt he was just as steamed as his customers to see Boyd and Erica together. Lahey didn’t mind making money off of black folks but he damned sure couldn’t stand to see them happy. “Yeah, they’re probably still together,” she answered, reminding herself that she needed this job, “I’ll see you later, Lahey.” Cora said, shoving the money in her pocket.

Lahey went back inside without another word that might get him punched in the throat and Cora headed back to the apartment she and Derek shared.

When Cora was a child, the Hale family had their own house. She’d been eleven when it burned away along with her parents, grandparents, aunts and uncle. She remembered the house being big and old and full of people, shouting and laughter. This new place was small, barely big enough for two people, let alone the four it had originally housed.  Between two alphas, they had their fair share of shouting but the only laughter in those drab gray walls was bitter and sarcastic.

Still, it was better than wandering the streets alone. The Hales lived in a basement apartment, because it was cheaper than one on the floors. Laura had had to beg to be allowed even that. Cora suspected the only reason they got it was because of the separate entrance. Their door was located on the side of the building, down a narrow alley with barely enough room for Cora and Derek to stand side by side. Hypothetically, they could have gotten in through the main entrance as well but Cora never tried it. The landlord didn’t want an alpha woman entering from the street and ruining his propriety. The closest she’d seen to the main building was the long corridor that lead to the shared bathroom.

As Cora pushed through the door, the scent of cheap, and extremely shitty vodka  assaulted her senses. Her brother cursed loudly from the hallway. Uncle Peter was home.

Cora crossed the apartment quickly, opening the front door to the  hallway leading to the bathroom. Peter was laughing, still cradling his bottle, leaning up against the wall. Derek gripped his arm, trying to pull him back into the apartment before the neighbors glancing through their door cracks actually called the police. Her brother grimaced at her and mouthed, “help me.”

Dutifully, Cora went over. Her uncle chuckled as she approached, raising his bottle as if to toast. “Cora! My baby niece! My brother’s happy little accident!”

“How long has he been like this?” Cora asked Derek, taking Peter’s arm.

“He got came in about an hour ago,” Derek frowned, “I thought if I could get him into a bath, it might help,”

“Well it didn’t.” She tried pulling him back to the apartment but Peter just went limp and boneless, like a cat that didn’t want to be held, and laughed at her.

“I’m clean, I’m clean,” Peter chuckled, “I took a bath last week. Derek’s being ridiculous.”

“Sure, Derek’s being ridiculous,” Cora said, pulling Peter back towards the apartment. Derek helped as much as he could. One arm, muscled as Derek kept it, wasn’t exactly suited to moving Peter when he didn’t wish to be moved. “What do you want, Peter?”

“Who says I want anything?” Peter said, swaying towards her. “I just want to see my favorite niece and nephew… my last remaining family… whom I can always depend upon.”

They managed to drag him over to the door and push him inside the apartment. Peter stumbled onto the chesterfield which sagged beneath his weight, slurring on about family and dependence. Derek and Cora exchanged dark looks. Peter hadn’t pulled off dependable for nearly a decade, not since Talia and Connor Hale died, leaving him as the executor of their estate. Cora remembered vaguely how he used to be, handsome and funny and even kind. Peter was beta, a calming influence by nature, but he could shift to cruelty so easily. Cora remembered her uncle lagging behind with her while Derek and Laura ran off to school, explaining that she could do whatever she liked so long as she was willing to fight for it. She also remembered sneaking through his room, trying to discover the location of Christmas presents and finding dirty magazines, filled with horror stories about evil alpha women trapping men with their squeezing pussies.

Then, one hot Sunday in July, someone set a match to the Hale House. Cora had been confined to her room after shouting at her mother, while her siblings were allowed to go down to the swimming pool. Laura and Derek weren’t there when their family died.  They didn’t have to hear the screams from the kitchen. They never saw the flames biting at Peter’s back as he threw open her bedroom door, bundled her up in a quilt and leap with Cora from the second story window.

Cora managed to survive with only a few cuts and bruises but Uncle Peter was never the same. He had third degree burns all over his back. He nearly died in the hospital, screaming for his wife. Afterwards, it seemed like all the kindness in him had burned out in the inferno. Even after the physical scars had healed over, the cruelty remained. He drank, womanized and owed money to several dozen loan sharks.

It might have been alright if Derek had been old enough to inherit. Cora hated herself for that thought, that compulsion to bargain with the universe like it was alright for their family to burn to death just as long as it was two years later after Derek turned eighteen. As the oldest heir, Peter gained control of the already meager family fortune and managed to blow through most of it on drink, women and convoluted revenge schemes that never seemed to go anywhere. By the time Derek got the money, it was nearly gone and Peter only wanted more.

Cora sighed and pulled out last night’s winnings from her trouser pockets. Peter’s face lit up. Her uncle was an ass but he was at least a predictable ass. “How much?” Cora asked.

“How much do you have?” Peter said, eyeing the roll of mostly ones eagerly.

“Who’re you paying off?”

“Yukimura…” Peter giggled, swaying forward to grab the wad. Cora stepped back and he crashed back into the chesterfield with another mad laugh, “Or the Calavera’s, I haven’t decided which…”

“Yukimura’s just going to cut off his toe,” Derek said, “Araya Calavera says she’ll kill him.”

“This goes to Yukimura then,” Cora said, tossing the money onto Peter’s chest. He made a gleeful noise and began counting it. Derek made a disapproving noise in the back of his throat but Cora ignored it. It was her money anyway, not his, and any amount to keep Peter out of their hair was money well spent.

“Twenty five,” Peter said with a frown. “That won’t be enough.”

“It’s what I’ve got,” Cora spat. “Give it to Yukimura and learn how to cheat better.”

“Oh, you got more’n that!” he scoffed, taking in her body up and down with a sneer. “You aren’t much to look at, my dear niece, but there’s gotta be some daredevil out there willing to shell out for that snapping alpha pussy of yours!”

“That’s enough.” Derek barked. “Get out!”

Peter chuckled, “Or what, cripple? You’ll throw me out with your last arm?”

“I will,” Cora warned. “Leave now, Peter.”

He laughed again, tottering to his feet. “I’m going, I’m going.” He pocketed Cora’s money and stumbled toward the alley entrance. He leaned against the door frame, eyes flitting back and forth between Derek and Cora. “My family…” he muttered in disgust, “One whole Alpha between the two of you…” Then he turned, staggering into the city. Derek locked the door behind him.

Cora sunk down to the couch and sighed. The dust seemed to settle as soon as Peter left. She probably could have fallen asleep right there, if Derek didn’t have his mind made up to argue.

“You smell like omega,” he growled.

Cora sniffed the ends of her fingers. She didn’t actually, which pissed her off even more than the accusation in her brother’s voice. Lydia was completely gone from them and she missed her terribly. Still, no point in lying. “Give the boy a big cigar,” she muttered, toeing of her shoes and putting her feet up on the couch. “What’s it to you, Derek?”

“Not a damn thing,” He said sarcastically. “What do I care if my baby sister winds up in jail ‘cause she’s running around fucking omegas? By all means, Cora, wander around reeking of sex like you’re proud of it”

One omega. She thought, Only one, ever. My Lydia.

Thoughts of Lydia were the only thing keeping Cora from murdering what was left of her family. “Jealous?” she asked acidly, unable to help herself. “My snapping pussy’s in higher demand that your perfect alpha dick? Girl’s’ll break the law to fuck me.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Derek said. “You think I give a shit who you fuck, if you fuck? I don’t but you keep acting like an idiot and you’ll end up with five to life. No judge in the city’s gonna care about your victim complex.” He sat down across from her, drinking wine straight from the bottle.

“Oh, I got a victim complex? I oughta trade you and Peter in for a fish bowl,” she rolled her eyes. “but what kind of fucked up fish would you even be worth? You gonna go to work today or just try and drown yourself?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Derek shouted.

Cora sat up, her eyes gleaming. Fuck calm. She could always do with a practice fight. “Make me!”

“You think I can’t?”

“Derek, if you had three arms you couldn’t beat me!” she shot back, rising up off the chesterfield, her fists raised. Derek snarled, dropping his bottle on the floor and pushing the chair back. Cora laughed at him. “I kick a bigger alpha asses than yours can fucking imagine! It’s my goddamn job. You need me! You don’t give a shit if I go to jail, you just don’t want the money to dry up!”

Derek took a clumsy swing. She dodged easily, returning with one of her own. Her fist connected with Derek’s cheek and her only brother stumbled backwards with a howl. He blinked quickly to hid the tears. Cora dropped her fists. All the rage inside her suddenly disappeared and replaced with cold regret. Derek seemed to deflate too. He sat back down, rubbing his eyes in frustration.

“I’m sorry,” Cora said. She felt like a damn child.

“Yeah,” Derek grunted, refusing to look at her. “I don’t think about you like that, you know?” he said after a long silence. “I mean… yeah, I know how much you do for the family and I’m grateful, really but it’s not… just about the money. You know that right?”

“I know,” Cora said, coming over to put her hand on Derek’s shoulder. He flinched a little, as the Hale alphas always did at physical contact, but then some of the tension drained away and he relaxed. “I shouldn’t’ve compared you to Peter. You’re not like him.”

Derek huffed a little and Cora couldn’t tell if that meant he agreed or not so she ignored it. “Sorry he took all your money.”

Cora chuckled, “What, you think I’m new here?” She reached into her shirt and pulled the rest of her winnings from out between her breasts. “Twenty five dollars, for rent and shit.”

Derek sighed, staring at the money. “Goddamn, Cora. You mug somebody?”

“I won it,” she said prickling. “Maybe prize fighting ain’t exactly legal but I’m not a fucking thief, Derek.”

“I wasn’t saying that-” he cut himself off mid growl. “No, I’m not doing this. Thank you for the money, Cora. It’s appreciated.”

“Christ, you sound like a damn robot,” Cora sunk down beside him to sit on the floor. “How is it we’re always at each other’s throats or walking on eggshells?”

“We’re two alphas who live together,” Derek said. “It’s biology.”

“Fuck biology.” Derek laughed, slinging his arm over her shoulder. Cora leaned against him, enjoying the warmth of her big brother. “I miss Laura.”

Derek nodded. “It was easier when she was here.”

Their oldest sister had been a beta with natural calming pheromones but she’d also been the best of them. At seventeen, she kept the family together, much more so than their legal guardian Peter ever had. She worked two jobs all through the war to pick up the slack Derek left behind and took on another when he returned missing an arm. That’s what killed her even more than the influenza, just a year after Derek was released from the hospital Three years had passed since then but Laura’s absence haunted them every day. The Hales had more ghosts than people.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hale Angst... but I repeat myself....


	4. Chapter 4

The Blakes had a lovely home, impeccably decorated. Their servants were quick and well-mannered in accordance with the old customs, never speaking unless asked a direct question, serving from the left and disappearing silently and immediately once their tasks were complete. The tea and cakes served tasted wonderful. The Blakes themselves were very good looking, neat and dressed in the latest styles without looking too pretentious. Those were the only nice things Lydia could come up with as she sat with Allison on the canapé listening to Aiden Blake explain excruciating detail exactly why John W Davis was shoe in for the next president which ought to put those “damned suffragettes in their place”.

Allison had a vague look of disinterest across her charming face, doubtless remembering her latest encounter with Scott McCall rather than listening to Aiden’s monologue. Lydia was expected to nod and agree at the right moments or else she wouldn’t have the new mathematics book she had her eye on. The bookstore clerk would not sell to women, both Lydia and Allison had tried. Harold Martin III promised that he would purchase a copy for her if she consented to tea with Aiden and his family.

The brother, also an alpha, was called Ethan. They were identical in every way but their manner. Ethan limited himself to the bare minimum of social interaction, standing by the fire place and nursing his own cup of tea. He hadn’t spoken two words to Lydia or Allison since saying hello and Lydia wished Aiden would follow his example. He sat as close as he could without crawling onto the canapé with them.

“Aiden, my dear, you are boring the ladies,” Mrs. Jennifer Blake, an omega woman meant to chaperone but who seemed more invested in her embroidery, chastised her son.

“Oh not at all,” Lydia said, because she had to. Aiden laughed, jovial and fake.

“May I freshen your tea, Miss. Martin,” Mrs. Blake offered, “Yours must surely be getting cold.”

Lydia considered. She’d actually finished her tea quite some time ago, unable to fight the distraction to the is boring conversation, and would welcome the further diversion of having to go to the bathroom if she kept going at the rate she was. However, for some undicernable reason, women with bodily functions were considered rude. Such rudeness would doubtless be reported back to her father and she’d have to sit through another stupid courting function before she got her book. It would also be rude to refuse the tea though so she simply said “You’re very kind, Mrs. Blake. Thank you.”

“Lovely,” Mrs. Blake stood to collect her glass and pour.

“I’m surprised you need anymore heat,” Aiden murmured in a low voice while his mother was away.

“I beg your pardon,” Lydia had, long ago, perfected the talent of begging someone’s pardon in a manner that suggested they ought to beg hers. Aiden Blake seemed to be deliberately obtuse. He smiled the way a snake might smile at a field mouse.

“I can smell it on you,” he whispered, “It’s faint but it’s there… Daddy’s got you on suppressants, does he?”

Lydia bristled. Two days passed since Cora helped with her heat. Harold Martin III didn’t believe in suppressants. He said they messed with the natural order of things, that an unmated omega woman could get through her heats with prayer and bedrest, and the help of good beta girls like Allison. Lydia hated that he used her as his primary evidence of this ludicrous theory but the only way to refute it was to tell him about Cora.

Lydia longed to try suppressants. The heats before Cora had been nigh unbearable, even with Allison there to calm her. Before Allison, Lydia’s heats were supervised by her mother and an old beta nurse, who kept reminding her to think of god and her future husband. With Allison “supervising”, she could at least touch herself and bring some relief via orgasam without being told her gift was for her alpha and not her fingers. Only Cora could make the scent of heat lessen with only her touch. Lydia’s father believed she’d found moral fiber when really she was being fucked by an alpha woman prizefighter about seedy bars.

“I could help you out with that,” Aiden continued, “bet you’d be begging for a real alpha cock.”

“Sir,” Lydia said icily, “Cease this at once.”

“You don’t mean that-”

Lydia was saved by the return of Mrs. Blake who asked her how her mother was. Natalie Martin was fine as usual, devoting her life to various charity balls which amounted to rich people feeling good about themselves while the poor got whatever profits were left over after the food and orchestra were paid for.

“I am glad to hear it,” Mrs. Blake said, calmly returning to her embroidery, “I had heard she was ill.”

“Only a small cold,” Lydia said. It was fashionable for married omega women to be chronically  and vaguely ill and her mother was no slouch. It assured everyone of what her father called the natural order. Omegas, especially women omegas, were always docile and dependant, in need of an Alpha, always a man, to protect them.

“And your father? I trust his business continues to thrive.” Mrs. Blake said.

“He doesn’t speak to me of such matters,” Lydia smiled demurely into her tea. If Blake wanted to feel out Lydia’s dowry, she could damn well read the business section of the news papers like everyone else. Her father was investing in real estate in Florida the last Lydia had checked, a safe, boring venture that was sure to yield greatly. “He seems pleased enough with it.”

“Wonderful,” Mrs. Blake nodded. “Both of my boys are rising quickly in their father’s company. As one would expect from two such fine Alphas, of course.”

“Of course,” Lydia fought not to sigh.  If they started talking about vague stock options and trade to china, she would jump out a window.

“Father imagines we shall be made partner in a year or so,” Aiden said, his eyes tracing Lydia’s body as if she would throw herself upon him at the mere mention of stable income. “I in the California branch and Ethan in New York.”

“Do you enjoy New York, Mr. Blake?” Lydia did not care if he did or not. She just wanted to hear something other than Aiden’s pompous drone. Besides, maybe somewhere in the thousands of miles between Beacon Hills and New York City, someone would say something interesting.

They didn’t. It was a wonder Ethan didn’t fall asleep listening to his own words. Lydia almost did, until a hand reached out onto her knee.

Lydia dropped her tea cup. She wished she had done it on purpose rather than as knee jerk reaction of shock and outrage but the result was the same. Aiden made a pained sound and with drew his hand, shaking it slightly. Lydia suppressed her own exclamation as the hot liquid seeped through her dress. She hoped it wouldn’t stain. Allison turned with a worried glance.

“Lydia?” she asked, in that soft way of hers which meant she could embrace Lydia or kill someone at her request. Lydia gifted her a small, genuine smile.

“My word, Miss Martin!’ Mrs. Blake exclaimed before she could speak. “What on earth?”

“It’s nothing, Mrs. Blake, I-”

“Delicate, omega hands, mother,” Aiden said smoothly, “You know what it’s like.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Blake said with a tight smile, “Let me get you a cold cloth, my dear.”

“That’s really not necessary,” but she was already bouncing out of the room. Lydia turned her glare onto Aiden. “If you ever touch me again-”

“You loved it,” he grinned wolfishly.

“For God’s sake, Aiden,” Ethan groaned from the fireplace.

“Shut up,” Aiden didn’t take his eyes off Lydia. Rather he seemed all the more intent on taking in every part of her body, “She’s mine, not yours.”

“That’s quite enough,” Allison snapped. “I’d expected better of you, Mr. Blake.”

Aiden snorted. “As if I cared what some beta bitch thought.”

“Shut your damned mouth!” Lydia barked.

Then he laughed outright, a mean, mocking sound. “Or what? You’ll tell your Daddy? Like he’d do anything. You need a mate, princess, a lot more than you need your pride.”

“For your information-” Lydia snapped and Allison caught her arm, warningly. She swallowed and turned to Allison. “We’re leaving.”

Allison nodded. They stood up as one and headed to the door, ignoring Aiden’s jibes. Ethan at least had the decency to look embarrassed as they passed but he offered no apology of defense.

They met Mrs. Blake in the hallway. “Miss. Martin, Miss Argent,” she smiled wide and uncomfortably. “Surely you’re not leaving so quickly.”

Lydia sniffed. “I’m afraid we must.” Allison nodded.

“Why, whatever is the matter?”

“I suggest you ask your son,” Lydia said, “Good bye, Mrs. Blake.”

The doorman, ever silent and profession, had their coats waiting for them. Lydia thanked him, slipping a copious tip for the courtesy his employers refused her. She didn’t doubt he’d be chastised for it.

“Cad,” Allison muttered, meaning Aiden. “I’m sorry, Lydia, I should have intervened sooner.”

Lydia shook her head, pulling her coat closer as a brisk summer wind pushed into them. “I am glad you did not,” she admitted. “Mrs. Blake is most likely phoning my father right now, to tell him what a rude omega I am. Better he have no way to blame you for my impertinence, Allison, dear. I couldn’t abide another courtship meeting without you.”

“I should have said something!” Allison insisted, “I wanted to claw his eyes out.”

“No, my dear, though I would have enjoyed watching,” Lydia said, taking her arm. “Besides, I handled it myself. Everyone treats me like some weakling to be protected, I shant allow you to start as well.”

“There’s nothing remotely weak about you, Lydia,” Allison said, hailing a cab. “Though I fear your book is out of the question.”

Lydia nodded. “It was lost to me the moment that snake opened his mouth. Oh well.” They stepped into the taxi and Lydia lay her head on Allison’s shoulder, soaking in her calming Beta scent. “Now I’ve just gotta face my parents.”

Allison laughed. “Please, say gotta in front of your mother. I’d love to hear a lecture about the decay of modern language to go along with ladies must always be demure when dealing with idiots.”

“Not idiots, my dear, Alpha men,” Lydis said, more bitterly than she’d intended. “They can’t help themselves around a pretty omega girl. The urge to breed over takes them, nothing they can do. It’s romantic if you don’t think about it.”

“Lydia,” Allison muttered, playing gently with her long red hair, “I’m sorry,”

“It isn’t your fault,” she said, begrudgingly. There was an awful comfort in having Allison’s fingers where Cora’s were yesterday morning. She missed her mate, wanted her desperately. Not for sex. Cora’s attentions combined the night before with Allison’s calming pheromones had all but destroyed her physical needs. She just wanted Cora there, to whine about Aiden and her parents and the entire idiotic set of rules than meant she had to jump through a million humiliating hoops just to get her hands on a damn book, let alone con her way into the university. She pouted against Allison’s soldier for the entire drive back to her parents’ house.

Her mother lying in wait in parlour. “Have you taken leave of your senses?” she demanded in a high pitched whisper.

“Hello, mother, wonderful to see you.” Lydia muttered.

“Your sarcasm does not impress, my dear,” Natalie Martin could play sarcasm as well as Lydia, but not nearly so beautifully as her righteous indignation. “I have received a call from Mrs. Deucalion Blake, informing me of your outrageous behavior this afternoon!”

“And which outrageous behavior was that, mother?”

“You deliberately scalded her son, Mr. Aiden Blake, one of the few suitors who will agree to see you. Is it not enough to verbally abuse your potential Alphas? You must physically assault them as well?!”

“I abuse them?” Lydia said. “Is that what happens? Well, perhaps you should stop giving me the opportunity.” She stalked angrily across the parlor, wishing the staircase wasn’t nestled in the very center of the house. Allison, bless her, stayed a step behind. Without her pheremones, and hell, her innate Allisonness, Lydia was certain she and her mother would come to blows at last.

Mrs. Martin was hot on their heels. “In my day, omega girls were grateful for the opportunity! Do you know how much effort your father goes to, just to find you a mate? You think strong Alphas, befitting your station, able to give you the life you deserve, you think they grow on trees?”

“I do not want them.” Lydia said acidly. I have a mate! She wanted to scream. Her name is Cora and she’s stronger and kinder and better than any  man you could find and she fucks me harder than any other Alpha on the planet.

“And what do you want, some fairy tale prince?” Mrs. Martin asked, “Alphas are alphas and they will act accordingly. Perhaps, Mr. Blake was overcome with his emotions and forgot himself. It’s a good sign, Lydia! It’s nature! He wants to see you again.”

“He’ll learn to cope with the disappointment, I am sure,” Lydia said, ascending the stairs.

“Lydia Lorraine Martin!” Her mother shouted. Her shrill voice shook the chandelier. “Aiden Blake is your last hope! You are seeing him again and you will apologize for your behavior this afternoon!”

“Mrs. Martin, you don’t understand,” Allison said, before Lydia could say something she regretted. “Aiden Blake is no gentlemen. He said things to Lydia that-”

“An Alpha is an alpha, as you should well know, Miss Argent!” Natalie snapped. “Whatever their training, in the presence of a young, fertile unmated omega like Lydia, they’re overcome with their needs. It’s nature-”

“Stop talking about nature!” Lydia shouted, “Stop talking about me like I’m not in the room, like I’m some… some womb just waiting to be filled by the first Alpha my father approves of! Stop talking like I don’t a-”

“Lydia!” Allison warned. Lydia shook, forcing her mouth to close with a snap. Her hands balled into fists and she wished there were omega fights she could enroll in so she had something to do with all of this anger.

“No, Lydia, finish your sentence,” Natalie said, in a cold, dangerous voice. “Like you don’t have what?”

“Like I don’t have a life of my own,” Lydia snarled, barely above a whisper. “I don’t want a husband, mother, I want-”

“What, Lydia?” Natalie snapped, “What exactly do you want that is so much better than what God and nature intends for you? The university? Mathematics? No woman or omega has ever even thought of such a thing… why would you throw away every opportunity given to you on an impossibility?”

Lydia sighed. “I’m going to bed. I have a headache. I trust father will be home to shout at me in the evening?”

Her mother practically turned red with irritation. “Young lady, you are confined to your room for the remainder of the day!”

“Exactly what I planned to do anyway? Excellent punishment, mother,” Lydia said dryly.

“Allison, I’m afraid I must ask you to leave,” Natalie snapped. “Clearly my daughter is not fit company.”

That did sting a little. Allison was good to have around to vent to, but not necessary. The dear girl glanced apologetically to Lydia before nodding and bidding her farewell. Lydia didn’t begrudge her friend the speed with which she escaped the Martin house. Once the front door was closed, Natalie rounded on her daughter again. “You are to stay in your room until your father returns. He’ll decide what your punishment should be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I wonder which characters Kate doesn't like on Teen Wolf"  
> No One, 69th of Never-ember, 2000 Ever.


	5. Chapter 5

Lydia was asleep when her father knocked on the door. Out of instinct, she shoved her calculus textbook beneath the bed and smoothed out her hair before answering. Harold Martin didn’t wait for her to open the door before bursting inside. Lydia was surprised he even knocked.

“Do you care to explain to me what happened at The Blakes' this afternoon?” he asked in a booming that hadn’t intimidated her since she was five years old.

“Aiden Blake is cad,” she said, borrowing Allison’s word. She liked it’s swift decision. “He touched me in an ungentlemanly fashion and I defended myself.”

“You poured boiling water on his hand,” Mr. Martin growled. “That is not how we raised you, Lydia.”

“It was lukewarm, at best,” Lydia said. She said down in her armchair, crossing her legs. If she was going to be chastised like a child, she may as well sit down for it. “He shouldn’t have had his hands on me.”

“Lydia, Aiden Blake is an Alpha,” Mr. Martin said, as if he were explaining to a very young child that what goes up will unvaryingly come down, “He intends to marry you.”

“He will be disappointed,” Lydia said. “I trust that I am not yet to be sold into chattel to the first Alpha man that catches your fancy, Father.”

Harold Martin snorted. He was a thin man who’d put on too much weight that wasn’t certain which way to go.  He was losing his brown hair and he sputtered when angry. “Hardly my first choice!” he snapped, “You’ve insulted or alienated half the eligible Alphas in the state! Judge Whittmore will barely speak to me!”

“He’s the one who gave his son two last names!” Lydia snapped.

“It’s like you don’t want a mate!”

 _I have a mate!_ She wanted to scream, to throw something. Instead, she forced herself to retain a semblance of calm, to speak slowly through clenched teeth. “I want to determine the course of my own life, Father. I want to choose my own mate, not be paraded about to every son of every business partner you wish to court.”

Her father glared. There it was; the same argument they had every month since she was thirteen years old. The disappointment in his eyes wasn’t new but it still stung more than it should have. They stared at each other in silence, neither one willing to back down or break their gaze. Finally, her father sighed, the put upon sigh of a man who had entirely more than he could ever handle.

“Lydia, you’re nearly twenty,” he sighed, “You’re practically an old maid. You must… you simply must see Aiden Blake again. He’s your last chance.”

“Father, it’s not a chance I wish to take,” she groaned. It was like banging her head against a massive wall. She couldn’t tell her father about Cora, not without risking her mate’s freedom on the off chance that every word he ever said on the subject of female alphas or marrying outside of their social status was a lie. Losing Cora wouldn’t kill her. Lydia lived for eighteen years without her mate, with only Allison and her books and her own fingers for relief, she could do it again. It would be hollow and painful and she’d hate every second of it but she could do it. Every moment without her hurt, the bliss of Cora’s touch made the rest of the time seem that much more empty, but a life spent alone would be better than staying with someone else. Being forced to mate with Aiden Blake, with anyone but Cora, that would kill her.

But of course, Harold Martin would never understand that. He’d never even know.

Her father sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he muttered. “You’ve always been willful… stubborn even. You- you’ll understand someday.”

“I understand now.”

“Then why do you insist on-” he cut himself off with a frustrated grunt. “You’re are to stay in your room until I tell you may emerge. There will be no Allison, no books-”

“Father-”

“No books!” he shouted. “They’re filling your head with this nonsense. Better you listen to your body, perhaps you’ll learn something. Then, when I decide you may leave, you are to apologize to Aiden Blake, and his mother, for your rudeness! You will beg to see him again and you will act like the lady we raised you to be!”

Lydia said nothing. Harold ranted on for a few moment and then turned away, closing the door behind him. A few moments later, the new maid, a poor pretty girl named Malia, came in to collect her books.

“I’m sorry about this, Miss Lydia,” she murmured, clearing the books from her shelf.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lydia told her. “They do this often enough. Don’t let them catch you talking to me. They fired the last two who did.”

Malia paled and nodded slightly, returning quickly and silently to her work. Within moments, every book on Lydia’s shelf was in a basket and swiftly spirited from her room. The lock clicked into place as soon as her door shut. Lydia wondered if it was her mother or father standing outside with key. She hoped Malia wouldn’t be punished for speaking to her but her father enjoyed punishing people, particularly if the object didn’t know their crimes were against his rules. She waited a quarter of an hour before she lifted her rug and removed the floorboard beneath it, retrieving a thin paperback copy of _The Omega’s Place_. She’d read it through at least a dozen times since her father discovered depriving her of books was the best means of punishment. The book was anonymous, banned in three states for gross indecency and outlined the radical proposal that the ability to have multiple children did not include the obligation to have multiple children. Lydia settled down on her bed to read it through again.

***

One of the many immeasurable charming qualities possessed by Allison Argent was her sense of timing. They met in Saint Ophelia’s Boarding School for Young Ladies when Allison pushed her paint set on the floor to distract Mother Superior from Lydia’s hand on another girl’s skirt. The other girl found religion and Lydia found a life long friend in Allison Argent.

A life long friend that currently stood underneath her window with a handful of rocks. Lydia grinned and quickly replaced her book, floorboard and rug. She put her pillow beneath her blankets to imitate a sleeping body and shimmied down the drain pipe. Allison hugged her tightly once she was on the ground.

“My knight in satin armor,” Lydia giggled, “Where are we going?”

“Cora’s bar,” Allison said with a grin. “You didn’t think I’d leave you up there, did you?”

“Of course not!” She grinned following Allison through the back garden into the waiting cab. “Will Scott be joining us?”

“No, he’s working tonight,” Allison grinned, hugging herself with joy. “He says he wants to save as much as possible before the wedding. He wants to get an apartment together.”

“Speaking of your imminent nuptials…” Lydia said as Allison made a noise of happiness only dogs could hear, “have you set a date yet? Because I am going to be there.”

Allison raised an eyebrow at her. “We’re eloping, Lydia, dear. Setting a date rather defeats the purpose.”

“Very well,” Lydia sniffed. “I’ll just have to find you, won’t I?”

They talked wedding and Scott until the cab pulled into Cora’s part of town. With Allison’s arm around her, Lydia felt perfectly comfortable wandering through the crowded, rain covered streets. They slipped down a long alley way to a hidden door, where Allison knocked three times and whispered, “Espadon.” The door opened with a click and a curly haired boy lead them down to the basement bar.

The first time she was in a speakeasy, Lydia was amazed at how many people could fit into such a small loud place. That was nothing compared to this. Even in her heels, Lydia had to crane her neck to see over the throng. She caught Cora’s scent just before she saw her, sitting in a booth in the far back, arm wrestling a large black  man. “She’s over there!” She called to Allison over the din, pulling her friend along with her. Cora must have cause a whiff of her scent as Lydia approached because she looked up immediately, prompting the bald man to slam her arm into the table.

“Cheating!” Cora shouted, “that was cheating! I was distracted!”

“No dice, Hale,” He grinned back at her, “Next rounds on you.”

“Fine,” Cora rolled her eyes and stood to greet Lydia with a warm, fierce hug. She buried her face in Lydia’s neck, taking along, indulgent breath that made Lydia shiver with anticipation. All too soon, Cora broke the embrace, but she kept her hand around Lydia’s waist as she turned back to the table. “Lydia, I want you to meet Vernon Boyd. I used to punch him in the face. Boyd, this is Miss Lydia Martin.”

“Hello, miss,” he said with a polite nod and a warm smile, “It’s good to finally meet you.”

“The same, Mr. Boyd,” Lydia agreed, offering her hand. He shook it firmly and she said, “Do call me Lydia, won’t you? Any friend of Cora’s is a friend of mine.”

“This your mate, Cora?” an extremely fashionable young woman with striking blond curls peeking from the brim of her cloche greeted them with a vibrant smile. “Erica Reyes Boyd, charmed!”

“Lydia Martin,” she said, taking the wildly bejeweled hand offered. “And may I present Miss Allison Argent.”

“Well, ain’t you a couple of swanky little shebas,” Erica Reyes Boyd grinned winking at her. “You didn’t tell me you mated a debutant, Cora. You girls fancy some giggle water?”

“Yes, please,” Lydia said, snuggling in close to Cora and kissing her cheek. Allison sat next to her while Erica poured them each a shot and sat down on Boyd’s lap. He pulled her in closer, ravaging her neck as she giggled helplessly.

“We just got hitched,” Erica explained as Boyd began to nibble her ear. “You wanna see the ring?”

“Yes, please!” Allison said, leaning forward with interest. Cora rolled her eyes. Erica leaned forward, showing her hand. There were at least six rings, each one with a bright, though fake looking, stone. Lydia looked up at Erica’s beaming face uncertainly.

“Which is it?”

Erica rolled her own sparkling eyes. “The best one, silly,” she pointed with her other hand to the plain silver band Lydia missed on first inspection, primarily because it was mostly covered by a metallic flower. “Ain’t it swell? We just got back from Washington.”

“It’s wonderful,” Allison beamed. “Congratulations! What did you wear? How much was the license? Was the wait very long?”

“Ally just got engaged herself,” Lydia explained.

“No kidding!” Erica grinned, “Cora, go get us another round, we got toasting to do!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lydia slid out behind her mate, following her to the bar as Allison and Erica gushed about their respective plans for wedded bliss. Lydia didn’t envy them the wedding. She’d worn enough fancy dresses to last a lifetime and whole process of pledging to obey a man for the rest of your life with no hope of escape made her nervous. It might be nice, though, to have Cora for her own, in public and not caring who saw them. In the crush it was easy for Cora to slip her arm around Lydia’s waist, unnoticed, and pull her close, squeezing her ass. “Missed you,” She whispered, as Lydia leaned against her.

“Mmm,” Lydia said, leaning against her, “I missed you too.”

Cora ordered a round of moonshine for all of them and kissed Lydia’s hair once the bartenders back was turned. Loud jazz music bounced off the walls and some men were playing pool in the corner. The air was thick with tobacco smoke and laughter. No one paid any attention as Cora slipped her hand under Lydia’s dress to gently stroke her thigh.

They returned to the table and toasted Allison and Scott, Boyd and Erica, and the great state of Washington. Allison and Erica seemed to hit it off immediately, discussing jazz and Erica’s work singing in the speakeasy bands. Boyd and Cora started loudly agreeing with each other about politics and the idiot bosses down by the docks. Lydia just listened, leaning back in her seat and enjoying the world spinning around her. Under Cora’s expert tutelage, she’d gotten better at the forbidden art of alcohol. If she’d had three tumblers of whiskey a year ago, she would have collapsed onto the dance floor and started necking the first girl who tried to help her up. Now she was only left with a pleasant buzzing feeling, and the thought that everything was going to work out somehow. She would be alright.

Of course, the alcohol was helped by Cora’s hand sliding up her thigh. Her fingers gently pushed beneath her undergarments, toying with her pubic hair. Lydia giggled, hoping idly that it passed for drunkeness and not caring if it did not.

“Lydia,” Allison said, tapping her shoulder. Lydia jumped, feeling rather like a schoolgirl caught cutting classes. Allison wasn’t looking at her though. Instead, she point across the crowded bar to a dusky corner by the pool tables, “Isn’t that-?”

Lydia squinted. There, in the shadows, talking to a pale young man with several noticeable black moles on his long neck, was Aiden Blake. “What’s he doing here?” Lydia frowned. What the devil was the point of sneaking around illegal ale houses if any dandy of wall street could barge in after her?”

“Who is it?” Cora asked, glancing passed Lydia’s shoulder. Her hand stayed thankfully where it was.

“Aiden Blake,” Lydia scoffed, “He’s an absolute bore, arrogant, sneaky… my parents want me to-”

“I don’t think it’s Aiden, Lydia,” Allison interrupted before Lydia could finish her sentence. Cora heard the unspoken end though, because her grip instantly tightened, pleasing possessive. “It’s the other one… Ethan?”

Lydia tilted her head, trying to get a better look. “Oh, yes, I think you’re right. I didn’t recognize him with that attentive look on his face.”

“Another of your father’s alphas?” Cora growled.

“Yes,” Lydia said, giving her mate a reassuring squeeze. “Aiden’s twin,” she explained about the incident with the Blakes that afternoon. “Ethan’s never shown any interest in me though. I suppose now we know why.”

“The other one here?” Cora asked, her voice low. “The one who touched you?”

“Calm down,” Lydia said. She reached beneath the table to where Cora’s grip on her thigh had become a little too tight and slapped her hand. Cora released her grip, gently soothing the discomfort as quickly as she caused it. “I don’t see him and you wouldn’t do anything even if he was.”

“I’d tear him apart for touching you,” Cora said and she burrowed into Lydia’s neck, sucking at her skin, marking her. The rush of endorphins almost clouded her mind but Lydia managed to push her off.

“Stop it,” she said, “It doesn’t matter. He isn’t worth getting thrown in jail for.”

“No, but you are,” Cora muttered, pulling her in just a little closer. Lydia didn’t quite know how to respond to that, nor could she deny herself the pleasure of practically sitting in her mate’s lap. As she did, she caught the eye of Mr. Ethan Blake as he turned away from the pool hustler. She ducked beneath the table with a squeak. “He saw me!”

“What?” Cora demanded, plunging down beside her.

“Right, ‘cause two girls under the table together won’t attract any attention,” Boyd muttered.

“Shush,” his wife tittered, “I like a girl who’ll hide under the table.”

Cora stared at Lydia, reaching out to cup her cheek and gently force her to meet her eyes. “He saw you?”

“I think so,” Lydia swallowed, trying to catch her breath. Her hands were shaking. “I don’t know… god, Cora, if he told my parents…”

“Shh,” Cora muttered, pulling her close and stroking her hair. “It’s okay. I’ll get you out of here.”

Lydia nodded, letting her self rest up against Cora’s warm breast. Nothing sounded better than escaping the bar and going back to Cora’s room where they’d be safe. “Allison?”

“It’s alright, dear,” She said, from the table. “I’ll come collect you in the morning.”

Don’t, Lydia wanted to say but it was the only real solution. Her father would want her to stew in her own juices until she decided to apologize to Aiden but they would definatly note if she were not there for meals.

“Thank you,” she whispered, “Here? Nine o’clock.”

“Nine thirty,” Allison said, kindly. “Go. Have fun.”

“Thanks,” Cora said, grabbing Lydia’s hand and crawling out from under the table. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them, and she didn’t seen Ethan as Cora lead her to the back door.

They stepped into the rain and Cora had her against the wall, kissing her hard. Lydia’s knees gave way but Cora pressed against her, holding her in place with the sheer force of her body. She dragged her lips, tongue and teeth across Lydia’s fair skin, marking and claiming, biting her lips, her neck and shoulders. Lydia gasped, light headed, clutching at Cora’s shoulders. Her thin white shirt bunched between her fingers and Lydia wanted to tear it away, to make her own marks.

“Cora…” she whispered, “not here… take me… take me somewhere,”

Cora grunted and dragged her down the street. Lydia stumbled after her. Someone must be looking. Lydia could smell the arousal wafting of Cora’s lithe, muscular body, and knew her own must be equally apparent. She couldn’t see anyone else on the road though. For all Lydia knew, everyone else in the world had disappeared. Only Cora existed, gripping her hand blissfully tight and pulling her through dark alleys. In a moment, she was pressed against another door, bracketed by her mate’s arms, Cora’s tongue down her throat. Her hand groped Lydia’s breast, toying with her rock hard nipples through the fabric of her dress. The other hand reached behind her. Lydia heard the jangle of keys and the door swung back.

Cora scooped her up as she fell, cradling Lydia in her arms, like a bride over the threshold. Her skirt fell back, exposing milk white thighs and black garter to the cold of the hallway. Cora didn’t look where she walked, her face buried in Lydia’s breasts, sucking them through her dress. Dizzy, Lydia glanced over the room that Cora seemed to know by memory. The apartment stood mostly bare except for a discolored davenport, threadbare armchair and a few unframed photos on the walls. “Cora,” Lydia murmured, as her mate licked the bruises on her neck, bruises she put there herself, “Where are we?”

“Home,” Cora said in a grunt. She kicked another door open and tossed Lydia onto a thin, creaking mattress. It smelled of Cora. Long brown hairs littered the worn patch work quilt. Lydia looked up. Her mate stared at her, eyes Alpha red, and licked her lips.

“This is your bed,” Lydia said.

The Alpha nodded. “Your bed,” she seemed only capable of single syllables. “Your home. Ours. You’re mine…” she shook as she spoke, half an order and half a plea.

“Yes,” Lydia sighed. How could it be any other way?

Cora dropped to her knees, climbing on to the bed like an animal. Her teeth sunk into Lydia’s thigh, ripping her garter away savagely. Before the pain could even register in Lydia’s mind, Cora’s lips pressed against the wound, soothing and warm. “Please,” she pleaded, barely aware of the stream of words leaking from her lips as Cora moved slowly up her legs.

“You’re mine,” she whispered, her voice muffled by Lydia’s fire red bush. Her tongue flicked out, cruelly teasing between each sentence. “Just mine. Nobody’s gonna take you from me. Promise.”

“What?” Lydia couldn’t keep track of what she was saying. She gripped the bedsheets, trying to anchor herself.

“Promise me,” Cora repeated. “You’re mine, Lydia. No one’s taking you from me.”

“No one,” Lydia promised, squirming as Cora delved deeper inside her, licking up her length and curving her tongue painfully slow against her. “I promise, Cora.”

Cora pressed one final kiss to her cunt, before sliding up her body. Lydia moaned at the sudden loss of contact until Cora kissed her. She could taste herself on Cora’s tongue. The other woman pulled back before she was ready, to stare down at her hungrily. “You’re beautiful, Lydia,” she murmured. She seemed to glow with satisfaction, eyes roving over Lydia’s body. “My mate,”

Lydia made an unintelligible sound, pushing her body up against Cora’s. Her mate smiled toothily. She reached back, pulling Lydia’s skirt up to her stomach. Cora’s fingers played on the edge of her sex, barely allowing her what she needed, rubbing small, gentle circles over her clit.

“You have any idea what it does to me?” Cora whispered, watching Lydia squirm. “Knowing they touch you? That I can’t stop it?”

Lydia swallowed, trying to force her mouth to work, “I don’t want them… Cora, I never,”

“I know,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I know, Lydia. You’re so brave, so beautiful.  I know you’re mine. I just need to claim you.”

“Then do it,” Lydia begged. Cora obeyed, sinking down to rip her dress apart with her teeth. “Let me feel you… you’re mine too, after all.”

Cora didn’t answer, except to bit her lips again and slowly fuck her, never once looking away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ERICA'S A FLAPPER!!!!! A real, honest to goodness flapper uninhibited by disapproving fathers! Ah, I love her. And Boyd. I love Boyd too. 
> 
> And so, sexy times! What do you think?
> 
> (please give me comments. I have to deal with my boss today and I draw strength from strangers on the internets.)


	6. Chapter 6

Cora watched Lydia sleep. The rich girl’s fancy clothes lay in tatters around the bedroom, her silky red hair a mess of tangles on Cora’s pillow. Her mate lay practically on top of her. Cora was never so grateful for her narrow bed. Lydia’s fingers were still inside her. Cora’s knot had untied sometime in the night but her mate’s presence was enough to make it squeeze again. The bed smelled like Lydia now. Their scents were mixed together in the sheets and the quilt and Cora didn’t know how she’d ever slept without it.

Lydia mumbled something in her sleep, her bright red lips pouting against the pillow. Cora kissed her. Last night, she’d only thought to claim. Her wolf demanded that everyone know Lydia was hers. Now she needed to deserve her. Of course, Cora’d never really deserve Lydia. Lydia wanted her, for some unknown reason, and that would serve enough. Cora could at least soothe her wounds.

Her mate blinked into wakefulness. She smiled when she saw Cora. “Good morning,” she whispered, snuggling closer.

“It’s dark out yet,” Cora said, “Go back to sleep.”

“No,” Lydia mumbled, pulling her fingers from Cora’s cunt. “I need to pee.”

Cora smirked, watching her naked lover spring to her feet. “That whiskey’s coming up on you, huh?”

Lydia made a face at her, searching the room. “You ruin my dress,” she complained.

“You helped,” Cora shrugged. “Come on, wear some of my clothes.”

Lydia raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Do you have any girl clothes?”

Cora snorted. “All my cloths are girl clothes…”

“I meant a skirt,” She said, peering into Cora’s closet, “Apparently not.”

Cora got up. She sidled over, pressing up to Lydia’s backside to look over her shoulder. “I don’t like skirts. Can’t do any work in ‘em.”

“You like my skirts,”

“You look good in ‘em,” Cora muttered, kissing her neck, “And I like ‘em on the floor better. Now pick something. Thought you had to pee.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and selected an old pair of trousers and an A shirt. A possessive thrill filled Cora at the sight of Lydia in her clothes. Her chest was bigger than Cora’s so the shirt stretched obscenely over her breasts, sweet little nips poking through the fabric. The trousers hung off her hips without the aid of a belt. She caught Cora staring and kissed soft on the lips. “You would look good in a dress,” she said, toying with Cora’s hair. “Something pink… I could never pull off pink…”

Cora growled, temporarily reverting to her seven year old self. Lydia laughed at her. “Where’s your bathroom, Alpha?”

Cora frown and led her out of the bedroom. “It ain’t fancy,” she said, “we gotta share it with everybody on the floor.”

“It’s a pot to pee in,” Lydia said, “I’m not that delicate.”

The apartment bathroom wasn’t much more than a pot to pee in. Lydia insisted on having her wait outside which Cora was fine with, if it meant her mate wasn’t bothered. She leaned up against the door, trying not to listen. Her entire body ached in the best possible way. Lydia had limped to the bathroom, leaning on her heavily.

“Cora!” her uncle’s booming voice broke her revelry. Cora flinched as she watched him stagger down the hallway towards her, not nearly drunk enough to deal with. “My favorite little accident!”

“You’re drunk, Peter,” Cora said. Her uncle waved away her words with a flick of his wrist.

“Not so very drunk,” he said, “I ran out of money, if you can’t believe it.”

“I can believe it,” Cora said, “I don’t have any, Peter. Go away.”

He sneered, the pale outline of his scars just visible in the dim light. Perhaps she was imagining it. Peter opened his mouth to insult her but then he sniffed. Short at first but then deeper, leaning in closer to Cora.

“Get out, Peter,” she said, grabbing his shoulder to push him back, “You’re drunk. Go sleep it off. I’ll get you money in the morning.”

“I smell Omega…” Peter whispered.

“You’re imagining things.”

“You got an omega back there!” He cackled, laughter echoing down the hallway. “My little accident… did you kidnap the poor boy?”

“Shut the hell up,” Cora warned, pushing him back from the door. The walls in the building were paper thin. No doubt Lydia heard everything Peter said. Cora only hoped she had the sense to stay out of it.

“No,” Peter slurred, unable to contain his mirth, “the poor boy may be in need of medical attention. You didn’t rip his dick off, did you? Very rude, save some for the rest of us.”

Cora snarled, pushing Peter back again. Her uncle laughed again but before he could speak, the bathroom door opened. Only a crack, but it was enough. Peter’s jaw dropped, at a loss for words for the first time Cora could remember. It made her nervous.

“Lydia, get back,” she ordered.

Predictably, the omega ignored her. “Are you alright?” she asked in a soft, dangerous voice, looking at Peter like he was some kind of snake.

“I’m fine.” Cora gritted. “Get back.”

“Omega…” Peter whispered, drawing the word out in a reverent hiss. His pale yellow gray eyes passed over Lydia, taking her in as quickly as possible. “What a fucking waste.”

Cora growled again. Her hands curled into fists. Peter didn’t seem to notice, too busy staring at Lydia. He grinned, extending his hand. “I’m Cora’s uncle,” he said, “Peter Hale. You must be Lydia.”

She nodded. Cora cursed herself for speaking her name. Peter was mostly sober. Yes, he’d been drinking but his tolerance made him dangerous.

“Forgive me for saying so, Lydia,” he sounded her name out slowly, as if testing it, “but you seem rather too elegant for a dalliance with someone like my niece. Does your father know where you are?”

“My father’s dead,” Lydia lied without hesitation.

Peter arched an eyebrow, “My condolences,” he murmured, his smile never fading. “A beautiful Omega woman, all alone in the world… such a tragedy. No one to… satisfy you…”

“Leave her alone, Peter.” Cora growled, “I won’t tell you again!”

“Cora,” Peter admonished, pulling himself up to full height. “I am merely offering my sympathies to the lovely young lady. You must excuse my niece, dear,” he said to Lydia, “She’s a victim of her genetics, as you’ve no doubt observed. Caught between the conflicting instincts of an alpha and the weaker sex, an unhappy accident. We can’t expect her to appreciate the finer distinctions of civilization.”

Lydia took a deep breath, grabbing Cora’s hand and squeezing it tightly. Cora glanced back at her. Her mate’s eyes blazed with righteous indignation. “Mr. Hale,” she spoke in a low hiss, “I will thank you to keep your ignorance to yourself where my mate is concerned.”

“Mate,” Peter chuckled, “Cora, you’re deluding this young lady. An alpha bitch has no mate. Never mind, my dear. I can sort out this little misapprehension.”

He reached for her, as if he had any right, and Cora’s thin resolve broke. She leapt, landing on her uncle’s chest and knocking him to the floor. Her fist landed on his mouth before he could speak, knocking his teeth into his throat. Years of taunting, lies and cruelty flashed over her memory. Every time her uncle called her an accident, every time he laughed at her, took the money she earned, the money Laura earned, the money Derek earned and wasted it gambling and drowning himself in booze, it all rang out clear as day as her blows connected to his smug, scarred face. After all that he thought he could touch her mate? Speak to her?! She’d kill him for it. Her hands circled his throat squeezing as hard as she could.

“Cora,” Lydia’s hand gripped her shoulder. Cora looked back. Her mate’s voice was calm, her eyes dry but wide with apprehension. “Don’t. It’s not worth it.”

Cora’s grip relaxed, her mate’s plea quelling her homicidal urges. That momentary lapse was all Peter needed. He rolled to the side, knocking Cora off balance and quickly jumped to his feet. He kicked her, hard in the stomach. “You little bitch!” he snarled, kicking her again. Cora scrambled to her feet, narrowly avoiding the next blow. “I should have let you burn, you worthless cunt! We should have drowned you the moment we knew what you were!”

“Shut up!” Cora lunged again but Peter was ready for her. He caught her fist and pushed back hard, knocking her into the wall. His arm pressed against her throat, pushing until she choked.

“We should have drowned you.” He whispered again. “I told Connor you were unnatural… but my brother wouldn’t listen, would he? Well, better late than never.”

Cora tried to push him off. A loud crash of a vase breaking over his head rendered her efforts pointless. Peter fell backwards, unconscious into the shards of what had been Laura’s favorite decoration. Lydia stood behind him. Her breath came in haggard gasps as she looked up at Cora. Cora couldn’t tell if she was elated or frightened.

“Are you alright?” Lydia demanded. “He was… I had to-”

“I know,” Cora said, massaging her throat, “I’m fine.”

“Thank god,” Lydia wrapped her arms around Cora’s shoulders. She pulled her gently to her breast, stroking her hair.

“We should go,” Cora muttered, her facilities slowly returning. “We probably woke the neighbors…”

“Cora?” Derek’s voice made her jump. Lydia’s grip tightened around her as she glanced over her shoulder at the new intruder. Derek stood just beyond Peter’s unconscious body, a bag of groceries in his hand. His face was chalk white. “What happened?”

“I-” Cora opened her mouth but no words came out. Her brother’s eyes flitted between Peter’s body and her and Lydia. They must have made quite the picture; the beautiful omega resting her brow on the alpha’s shoulder. Like something out of the motion pictures, except the alpha should be man.

Derek dropped to his knees, putting the bag of groceries behind him. He checked Peter’s pulse. “He’s alive,” he said, grimly. “We need to get him out of here.”

Cora nodded. “Okay.”

Her brother stood, offering his hand and a weak smile in Lydia’s direction. “I’m Cora’s brother. I want to help.”

Cora swallowed. Lydia made no move to take Derek’s hand. She watched Cora carefully for what to do. Cora didn’t know. She couldn’t hear a lie in Derek’s voice, but she also couldn’t help remembering how he’d shouted at her for the risks she took “fucking omegas”. Still, he wasn’t shouting now, and they needed him. So she released her hold on Lydia’s waist and said. “Derek, this is Lydia Martin. She’s my mate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dunnnnnnnn!!!
> 
> Oh Peter. I have a hard time thinking of a TW character I dislike more than I dislike Peter. Peter is... awful. I pretty much stopped watching after Allison died but I really can't imagine he got any better. Don't tell me. I'm much more a fan of TW Fanfic than the actual show. Basically, if you're holding out for Peter to be redeemed... you will be holding out for a long time. 
> 
> Anyway, Derek finally meets Lydia! And soon after math!
> 
> I should warn that the next chapter does get a little spoilery for those of you reading Shrapnel (The Sterek WWI fic in this same universe) I don't think it diminishes the enjoyment but I'm sure some of you will want to know. And I'll do anything to promote myself. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please review!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so if any of you are reading Shrapnel (the Sterek prequel that will eventually catch up to this fic), HERE THERE BE SPOILERS!
> 
> Like... who lives and who dies spoilers. Like Angst beyond Angst. 
> 
> Just be aware...

They deposited Peter in the next alley way over with half a bottle of gin in his hand. He’d passed out there often enough in the past. “Maybe he won’t even remember,” Derek said, after covering their uncle with an old newspaper.

Cora doubted it but said nothing. She supposed they were lucky none of the neighbors stuck their noses into it.  When they returned to the apartment, Lydia was fixing coffee. She’d returned to Cora’s closet and found a button down shirt that actually covered her decently, when combined with the a shirt. Derek took her in quietly and thanked her for the coffee.

“Are you from Beacon Hills originally, Lydia,” he asked, sitting down at the kitchen table.

“Yes,” Lydia glanced awkwardly at Cora who shrugged. “I mean, I was born here but I attended school in France, before the war.”

“I was stationed in Lorraine,” Derek said, with a soft sad smile. “were you any where near there?”

“No, we were in south. Saint-Martin-d’Entraunes,” Lydia said, “I did visit Metz once, on holiday. It was very beautiful.”

“Yes, it was.” Derek agreed. He frowned over at Cora, “Sit down, would you? You’re making me nervous.”

“I make you nervous,” Cora rolled her eyes but sat down as he requested. Lydia sat beside her. She reached under the table, grabbing Cora’s hand. Derek glanced between the two of them and sipped his coffee.

“What line of work are you in, Mr. Hale?” Lydia said, her training getting the better of her. You could take the rich girl out of the mansion but you couldn’t take the mansion out of the rich girl.

“Please, call me Derek,” he said with a smile Cora hadn’t seen since before the war. “I hope you don’t mind if I call you Lydia, either. Anybody who can take Peter out with a vase of flowers is a friend of mine.”

Lydia blushed prettily. “Thank you, Derek. I’m honored.”

Cora scoffed, “Well, you don’t really know him yet,”

“Is she always this rude in front of you?” Derek asked Lydia. “I’m her brother so I’ve gotten used to it. I’m amazed you can stand it.”

“She’s fine,” Lydia laughed as Cora told her brother to shut up. Derek chuckled. They talked late into the morning. Lydia and Derek traded stories of France, stories Cora never heard Derek mention. When Lydia mentioned wanting to study at the university, Derek asked what she thought of something called the axiom of choice which prompted a seemingly unending debate Cora could barely stay awake for. It ended with Derek laughing at something Lydia said and asking why Cora hadn’t brought her around before. Watching her brother eagerly listen to Lydia explain her own mathematical theories, Cora couldn’t remember why.

All too soon, the clock struck nine and Lydia had to return to the bar to wait for Allison. Derek stood, walking them to door. “I’m sorry I took up all your time,” He admitted with a yawn, “You probably wanted some alone time.”

Cora was about to agree but Lydia said, “Not at all. It was a great pleasure talking to you, Derek.”

“Likewise,” he agreed, “Come back any time you like. You’re always welcome here.”

Lydia blinked hard and for a moment, Cora thought she was going to cry. Instead she nodded and thanked him for his hospitality.

Derek nodded and turned to his sister “You’re coming back, aren’t you, Cora? I’d like to talk to you.”

“Yeah, sure,” Cora said, and closed the door behind her. Lydia gave her a small peck on the cheek and the two women walked hand in hand into the dim morning light.

Peter wasn’t in the alley where they left him. Either he’d moved on his own, or the cops had picked him up for public drunkenness. Cora didn’t care either way. Her body still ached and complained about the lack of sleep but her mate leaned against her and the rain had made everything fresh and clean.

“Your brother likes me,” Lydia practically sang as they made their way towards Lahey’s.

“Yeah,” Cora agreed, “I didn’t think he could like people. He might have a fever.”

Lydia shook her head, “Cora, do you know what this means? We don’t have to hide anymore! Okay, we don’t have to hide as much.” she said, off Cora’s look, “No more hotel rooms. No secret rendezvous. You could have me in your bed every night.”

The thought intoxicated her. Lydia in her bed, in her clothes, sipping coffee from her mugs. No need to set aside money for a room or kiss in dirty alleys and booze halls. Every night might be a bit of a stretch. There was still Peter and Lydia’s father and the law to contend with. She could have Lydia without losing the last of her family. Cora pulled her mate close and kissed her.  

“I love you,” she whispered into her mate’s hair, “I never said it but I love you. It wasn’t just sex last night… it was claiming. I want you with me, always. I love you.”

“Of course,” Lydia smiled, delicate fingers brushing against Cora’s cheek. “You’re my mate. I love you, too.”

Anything more and Cora would have jumped her in the street. Luckily, Allison arrived not long after in her motor car. Lydia bid Cora goodbye, promising to visit again soon.

Derek waited for her when she arrived back at the apartment. He hugged her the moment she walked through the door. Cora stumbled back but her brother just held her tight, lifting her off her feet. “Cora, I am so sorry,” he said, brown eyes full of tears. “I should never have said those things to you. I thought you were just messing around, trying to get in trouble. I didn’t realize… but I should’ve known she was your mate. Can you forgive me?”

“Derek,” her voice cracked as she spoke. Cora blinked hard. “Yeah, of course I forgive you.” she hesitated, trying to suck courage in with her breath. “You believe me then? That’s Lydia’s my mate?”

“Of course, I do,” Derek stared at her. “It’s obvious, the way you two look at each other.”

“Peter said Alpha girls don’t get mates,” Cora admitted.

Derek scowled. “Peter’s an idiot and an asshole. You have a mate. That means Alpha girls get mates. If he says anything about it again, I’ll kill him.”

Cora laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. Derek took her hand and led her to the chesterfield. “I thought you’d hate me,” she admitted. “Me and Lydia… it goes against… everything! The law, nature-”

“Stop.” Derek said, eyes pleading. “Don’t say that. It might be illegal but there’s nothing wrong with you, Cora. Or Lydia. I should have been telling you that from the beginning.”

“Derek, it’s alright-”

“No,” he shook his head, “It’s not.”

He closed his eyes, taking in a deep, shaky breath. “I know I haven’t been… dependable since Laura died. Hell, not since the war. Between the hospital and loosing all my jobs…”

Cora swallowed. “Derek, we didn’t expect you to… we were just happy you came back alive.”

“Half,” he said darkly. Cora couldn’t argue. She and Laura had a hell of a time finding him after the war was over. When the Battle of Saint-Mihiel claimed his arm in 1918, Derek wound up in a military hospital where they mistakenly declared him dead. The Hale sisters got a flag and sixty dollars for bereavement. A year after the war ended, Derek showed up on their doorstep, bedraggled and exhausted. He woke up screaming, jumped at every sound,  and wouldn’t tell them a thing. Laura had to take him to the veteran’s hospital when he wouldn’t eat. He got better. The nightmares decreased and he learned how to function with the one arm. He came home but Derek never really came back, not all the way. The closest he ever got to the old Derek was that morning, talking with Lydia.

“I had a mate in France,” he said, much in the manner one rips off a band aid. He didn’t look at her, instead reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette case and his old army lighter. His hands shook as he tried to light the thing again and again. Cora reached out, took the lighter from his hands and lit the cigarette in one quick motion.

“You had a mate?” she repeated.

“Yes,” Derek took a long, slow drag. “I couldn’t… it’s hard to talk about.”

“You lost her,” Cora said.

“Him,” Derek said in a harsh voice. His eyes flashed Alpha red. “I lost him.”

Cora blinked. Him. Derek’s mate was a man. How did she not know? Cora had been falling over girls since she turned thirteen but Derek never seemed to like anyone. She’d seen him briefly with a blond woman before the fire but he never mentioned her, never looked at another person since. Except for one apparently, half a world away. “Who was he?”

 “A beta private under my command,” Derek said, a sad smile across his face. “Smart mouth, jumpy as hell… I scented him once, during a battle, and I was hooked. I didn’t care that he was guy or what would happen to us if we got caught… I found one good thing in that hell hole and I wanted to hold on to it. He felt it too and we…” he trailed off taking another drag off of his cigarette.

Cora didn’t speak. Derek had held on to this for the last five years. He wouldn’t let it go all at once. Her mind swam with questions. What was his name? What did he look like? How did they manage to be together with a war crashing on around them? She had a hard enough time seeing Lydia and they only had to worry about the police and their families.

“We never got to…” Derek hesitated. “We were gonna find each other, after the war. Settle down… figure everything out. He was from here, you know? About your age… if I had met him sooner… maybe.”

Cora cupped her hand around her brother’s closed fist, squeezing as hard as she could. Did she know him? Derek’s mate? Had their paths crossed before the war and she didn’t even realize it? Derek swallowed, forcing himself to continue. “The last time I saw him was Lorraine. I don't exactly remember everything," his face went tense for a moment, trying. They told me... We were in the trenches and mortar round landed on top of us. I don’t remember what happened after that. When I woke up, the war was over and I couldn’t find him.”

“They thought you were dead too, Derek,” Cora said, desperately trying to find a way to alleviate the heartbreak in her brother’s voice. “Maybe he-”

“Yeah, I thought so too,” Derek swallowed. “I mean… mates die together right? Mom and Dad did…. so I looked for him. I tried to any way. You remember the way I was. I couldn’t even function, let alone… find anyone…”

“What if-”

Derek shook his head. “I was in the hospital for a year. If he wanted to find me, he would have. So he’s either dead… or he doesn’t want me.”

He looked so desolate, staring down at the floor, half there and half stranded on some blood soaked field in Picardy. Core reached out and squeezed his shoulder, trying to pull him back to her. “Derek, that’s not-”

“I don’t need sympathy,” Derek said, harshly. He blinked and ashed his cigarette on the table, letting the gray flakes fall to the floor. “I accepted I’d be alone a long time ago. I just wanted you to know; I know how it feels to love someone and how it feels to lose them. I won’t do that to you. Lydia’s welcome here, any time. If there’s anything I can do to help, tell me and I’ll do it.”

Cora couldn’t speak. She wrapped her arms around Derek’s shoulders and hugged him, for the first time since he got home from the war. Derek stiffened under her embrace but then, awkwardly, patted her on the back. “Thank you,” She muttered, trying to wipe her tears on his shoulder, “For telling me and for… I thought you were gonna hate us.”

“No,” Derek said, “Never.”

She let him go eventually and they glanced around at everything else in the room except each other before bidding a hasty good night, even though it was nearing ten. Cora flopped into her bed. She could smell Lydia on the sheets still. She buried herself in the quilt, vowing never to let it fade.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I- told you?
> 
> Please review.
> 
> (very slightly edited to match Shrapnel timeline.)


	8. Chapter 8

The Blake standoff lasted approximately three days. When they realized Lydia wasn’t going to apologize just to get out of her room, Mr. and Mrs. Martin traded off lecturing and yelling at her. Usually, Mrs. Martin lectured just after breakfast, after Mr. Martin had left for the office. Lydia could have performed her mother’s soliloquies from memory, to adoring crowds at the met. Her father preferred to rage after his evening drink, which meant he was usually shouting at her just after dinner. To his credit, Harold Martin III did employ a wider range than his wife. He alternated between several less than compelling arguments of what the neighbors would say, she’d eventually want children of her own, nature, God and tradition. The servants were under strict orders not to give her lunch.

Lydia would have thrown herself out the window, or at the very least let something important slip out, if not for Allison. Her dearest friend came round every evening like clockwork, usually bearing a new book to hid beneath her floorboards. Together, they’d venture across town to Cora’s meager beautiful apartment or Erica’s club for a quick night cap. Then Lydia went home with her mate. They fucked leisurely, fell asleep in each other’s arms. In the morning, Cora made her breakfast and kissed her on the cheek as Lydia did the washing up. Sometimes, Derek wandered out of his room before she left, his black hair sticking up in strange patterns, grunting his good morning.

“Do you think I should apologize,” Lydia asked on evening, as she kissed the curve of Cora’s breast, “to Aiden Blake?”

“No.” Cora stopped playing with her hair to glare down at her. “Why would you?”

“Well, if my parents ended this siege nonsense,” Lydia slid up her body. Cora squirmed a little, trying to get comfortable, “I could stay here during the day.”

“I’m not here during the day, sweet,” Cora told her. She bit Lydia’s lip lazily, running her tongue across to soothe the wound. “You gonna come see me down at the dock?”

“No,” Lydia said, kissing her. “but I could wait here until you got home. Might be nice.”

“Definitely nice,” Cora said. Her fingers stroked her mate’s round white ass, just barely sliding into the crack, making Lydia shiver. “But I never pictured you as a little omega housewife.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Lydia smiled. “I can’t cook and I won’t clean.”

“So what? You’re just gonna lie in bed all day, reading your math books?”

Lydia stretched out. Her long red hair tumbled down onto Cora’s pert round breasts, tickling her nipples, as she worked the kinks from her neck. “Science books too, but yes. Lie around all day, naked in bed, waiting for my alpha.”

Cora chuckled. Her long black eyelashes fluttered, brown eyes shining into Lydia’s. Her grip tightened on Lydia’s ass, pushing her down again. “Sounds appealing, my ‘mega girl, but you’d get bored.”

She was already bored through most of the days, just waiting to escape with Allison into the night. If Lydia had to be bored, she’d rather be bored in her mate’s house. She’d often wondered what this part of the city was like during the day.

Cora kissed her hard, wiping any argument from her mind. They fell together onto the bed, lost in each other’s bodies.

***

She walked home by herself. Cora and Derek had work and Allison had slipped away to visit Scott.  Lydia glanced up to the hazy circle of light gray where the sun still shone behind the steel curtain of clouds. Despite the overcast skies, she’d abandoned her coat to enjoy the clinging warmth of early summer. She paused briefly to watch a shop girl adjust the dress on a window mannequin before the boutique opened for the day. A block from her front door, Lydia could turn down any alley and disappear into the maze of buildings, each hiding its own secret life. The city stretched out before her but her feet could only lead back to her parents’ home.

“Lydia Martin,” an all too familiar voice called to her from one of those enticing alleyways. Ethan Blake stepped out onto the cobblestones, impeccably dressed in brown suit with pink tie. He grinned at her, lopsided like he’d grinned at Scott’s pool hustling brother. “Fancy meeting you here.”

 Lydia stiffened. She inhaled deeply and frowned as if she’d just passed an open trench. Her heels clacked on the cobblestones as she strode forward.

“You’re not stupid,” Ethan said, circling around to her side, “so slow down and talk to me. Or Daddy’ll hear all about your Alpha girlfriend.”

Lydia turned so quickly, her hair snapped like a whip. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re-”

“We’re not sitting in my mother’s parlor any more,” Ethan snapped. “so you can cut the bullshit and say what you mean. I’ll extend the same courtesy. I saw you at Lahey’s the other night with that Alpha bitch prize fighter. I’ve seen you with her the last three nights.  You apologize to my brother, consent to the courtship, or I tell your father what you’ve been up to.”

A low growl escaped Lydia’s lips. “How dare you threaten me?” she demanded in a hiss, “I saw plenty myself that night. You soliciting favors from that boy in the pool hall. Why don’t I tell your mother about that, if we’re going to start conversations.”

Ethan laughed, a loud, unsettling bark of derision. “My mother’s well aware of my proclivities. Father and Aiden too. There’s no law against an alpha courting an omega boy.”

“He was beta,” Lydia said, “There is a law against that. Leave me and my mate alone and I won’t have to use it against you.”

“Mate, huh?” Ethan quirked an immaculately trimmed eyebrow at her, twirling his hat in his fingers. “You’re more delusional than I thought, Miss Martin, but feel free to go to the papers or father’s partners or whatever you have in mind for your little scheme. It’ll be difficult to prove his status in a crowded bar and it won’t get your alpha bitch out of prison-”

“Stop it!” Her hands curled into fists.

“but sure, inconvenience me for a bit, if it makes you feel better,” Ethan continued with a shrug. “I wouldn’t give a shit but Aiden’s got a thing about girls who tell him no.” The alpha rolled his eyes heavenward, “so save us both the headache and tell him yes.”

“Never!” She spat on the ground, slightly pleased when Ethan took a step back to save his shoes.

He shrugged and turned back to the alley he had slithered out of. “You’ve got forty eight hours to revise that opinion, Miss Martin, or your father finds out all about your little mate. Cora, did you call her?”

“Leave her out of it!” the snarl came out more as a sob. Lydia tried to choke it back but the tears had already sprung to her eyes. Ethan glanced over his shoulder. He smirked, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and gave her a slight wave.

“Forty eight hours, Miss Martin,” he said, leaving Lydia shaking.

***

Somehow she got back to her parents house. She climbed up the drainpipe and collasped onto her bed, suddenly exhausted. “Damn,” she muttered into the comforter. The soft fabric smelled nothing like Cora and so couldn’t comfort a bit. Tears flowed freely, and Lydia hated herself for them. Why couldn’t she attack? Why should she be reduced to this, weeping like a child when a villain threatened the one she loved? She punched her pillow, sending it flying across the room.

 _Cora would have killed him,_ Lydia thought. For a brief, satisfying moment, she imagined her mate ripping Ethan Blake to shreds, like she’d wanted to that night at Lahey’s. Hell, she could do it herself if she got the drop on him. Lydia didn’t have alpha instincts, no urge to sink her claws in the skin of her enemies and tear out their throats with her teeth. A cut of the knife, a sprinkle of the right powder, just as long as the threat to her and her mate disappeared, who cared how it happened.

A knock on her bedroom door startled Lydia from her homicidal schemes. “Miss Martin?” Malia’s voice said, muffled through the door. Of course, only a servant would respect her privacy enough to knock first. Lydia must find someway to tip the girl for basic human decency. She wiped her tears away with her sleeve and took a long steadying breath.

“Yes?” she said, calmer than she felt, “What is it?”

“Mr. Martin says you are to come down for breakfast,” Malia said, “Your grandmother is here to see you.”

Lydia stood, her knees shaking. “Give me a moment. I’ll be right down.”

Malia unlocked the door with a click but didn’t open it. Lydia listened to her silent, fading footsteps and set about changing. She took off the dress that smelled like Cora, pressing it to her nose and soaking in as much comfort as she could glean from it. Losing Cora wouldn’t kill her, but letting anyone, especially her mate, rot in a cell when she could prevent it, the thought was unbearable.

She chose a conservative frock, favored by her mother, and carefully doused herself with perfumes. A bath would serve better but there wasn’t time. Tying her hair back into a loose bun, she steeled herself and pushed the door open.

Breakfast was served in the formal diningroom, as it always was when Grandmother visited. Lorraine DeBaugh Martin had been the last of an ancient line of Scottish Aristocracy and she refused to allow anyone to forget it. A white swath cut through her red hair, only a shade duller than Lydia’s own. She stood when Lydia entered, leaning on her favorite cane, the one with the sapphires on the handle and frowned. “Good lord, Harold, what have you done to the poor girl? She looks positively gaunt.”

Mr. Martin sputtered and sighed deeply. “Lydia, come and sit down,” he said, choosing to ignore his mother’s admonition all together.

Lydia obeyed, choosing the spot next to her grandmother. The elderly woman peered at her skeptically. “Are you quite well, child? You’ve paled noticeably since I saw you last. They are feeding you, aren’t they?”

Lydia forced her lips into a smile. “I’m fine, grandmother, thank you. How was Paris?”

Lorraine snorted and waved her wrinkled hand in front of her face. “Full of the French who are full of themselves, my dear. One little war and you’d think they owned the continent. The Riviera did wonders for my bones though.” She plopped down into the seat next to Lydia’s. “Madeline, my dear, do sit down,” she called to her companion. The tall, brown woman obeyed silently, and poured her employer a cup of black coffee. Maddy had been with Lydia’s grandmother since before Lorraine had children, but Lydia couldn’t recall the woman having ever spoke beyond Yes, No, or Right Away. “Thank you,” Lorraine said, turning back to Lydia. “Eat something, my dear. You’ll feel better.”

“Yes, Grandmother,” Lydia said, dutifully picking up a piece of toast and spreading marmalade across it as slowly as she could. One bite and she feared she might vomit. Lorraine refused to break her steely blue gaze until Lydia bit into the crunchy bit of breakfast. She nodded sagely.

“Good girl. Now, would you care to explain this business with the Blakes, Lydia?”

“There isn’t much to explain, grandmother,” Lydia said, with a glance at her father. “Mr. Aiden Blake was… overcome with his urges… I over reacted. I shall apologize to him and Mrs. Blake this afternoon.”

“Marvelous,” Natalie Martin exclaimed approvingly.

“Hear, hear,” Harold raised a glass of Orange juice in approval. “High time you came to your senses, my girl.”

Lydia’s grandmother frowned. “What did the boy do?”

“It hardly matters now,” her son scoffed.

“Lydia?” Lorraine’s withered fingers circled gently around her grand daughter’s wrist and squeezed softly. “What did he do?”

“Put his hand on my knee,” Lydia said, staring down at her empty plate. “I told him to remove it and… when he didn’t, I poured hot tea on him.”

“Good,” Lorraine nodded approvingly.

“Mother!” Harold Martin sputtered while his wife dropped her fork in shock. Lydia managed to suppress a nervous smile.

“For heaven’s sake, Harold,” she glared at him through narrowed eyes. “I’d thought she stabbed him the way you were carrying on. Locking the girl away for three days over a little spilled tea!”

“It’s a compound offense, mother!” Harold exclaimed. “She’s willfully antagonistic to ever suitor, she refuses to be practical,”

“Father, I’ve said I’d apologize,” Lydia interrupted, holding back the tears. “I’ll see Aiden again, I’ll be on my best behavior from now on, what else do you want?”

For once, her father deflated. “Alright, my dear,” he said, clearing his throat. “We’ll say no more about it.”

Lorraine frowned deeply. “I hope you’re not just giving in, Lydia, my dear. The Blakes are a powerful family but we must not debase ourselves unless absolutely necessary. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I understand that, Grandmother,” Lydia said, closing her eyes. “I regret the incident with Mr. Blake, and the trouble it has caused. That’s reason enough to apologize, isn’t it?”

“Hear hear!” Her father said again, banging his glass upon the table.

Lorraine gave a disapproving grunt and rolled her eyes. “If you feel it’s necessary, my dear.” She said to Lydia. She gave her hand a little squeeze, “Sacrifice is part and parcel for we Omega women, I supposed. I only wish you didn’t have to learn it so young.”

***

“You apologized?!” Allison’s voice echoed through Lydia’s room. “Why on earth would you-”

“You know why,” Lydia snapped. “I won’t send Cora to prison because of my mistake.”

Her best friend blinked at her. “You don’t truly believe it was a mistake, do you?” She sat down on Lydia’s bed, running her fingers through her jet black curls. “For God’s sake, Lydia, she’s your mate.”

“I know that,” she said, allowing herself a long, jagged exhale. The apology had been as pleasant as a root canal without the morphine chaser. The Blakes couldn’t attack her with her parents in tow, not that Lydia was certain either Natalie or Harold would defend her if they had, but they grinned at her, like they knew they’d won. Aiden in particular made a great show of kissing her hand and sinking his teeth in to make the skin. Somewhere in the course of the luncheon, Ethan managed to slip a note into her pocket, demanding that she meet them without the Martin’s, to discuss the terms of her surrender. “That’s why I have to protect her.”

“That is simply the most maudlin solution I have ever heard,” Allison said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Do you honestly mean to tell me you’re going to throw away your freedom and abandon your mate because some trussed up cad is trying to blackmail you?”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” Lydia sighed. “I just need some time to figure out what to do, how to keep Cora safe.”

Allison nodded, softening just a bit. “Have you spoken to her yet?”

Lydia shook her head. “Not yet. I don’t know what to say.” And she had another Alpha’s mark on her. She didn’t smell like Cora anymore.

“Lydia,” Allison whispered, drawing her into a tight embrace. Lydia hadn’t even realized she was crying but big fat tears rolled down her cheeks anyway. Allison petted her hair, whispering softly. “It’ll be alright. Cora will understand… we’ll fix it.”

How ? She wanted to moan but instead she just buried her nose in the crook of Allison’s neck, inhaling her calming Beta scent. “I hate this,” she said in a ragged sob. “I should talk to my mate. I should warn her but I can’t risk seeing her. Not when Ethan was able to find us so easily.  God damn it, Allison, I’m absolutely terrified. What if it was police officer, or my father? I feel like a damn child.”

“You’re not,” Allison soothed, “You’re not, I promise. It’s frightening…. I’m frightened for you but… it will be alright, Lydia, you know it will?”

“You’ll come with me, won’t you? To the Blakes?” She swallowed, trying to ignore the shame of how desperate she sounded. “Please, Allison, I don’t want to go alone.”

“Of course, I’ll go with you,” Allison said and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She frowned, looking suddenly pensive. “I could ask Grandfather for some men, you know,” she said in a slow voice,  “If you wanted? That is the kind of thing he does sometimes.”

Lydia blinked. Shock temporarily overwhelmed her own panic. Allison never spoke about her families… less than legal activities. She certainly never alluded to them that blatantly, not even to Lydia. The most she ever admitted to was that the FBI was interested in her grandfather’s business deals. She felt a sudden flutter in her chest. A blush crept to her lips.  There was something immensely flattering about a hitman being offered for ones disposal.

“No, Allison, dear, thank you,” she said hastily. “I appreciate the offer but I can’t drag your family into my problems as well. But perhaps ask me again if I get engaged.”

The Argent Heiress gave a little gasp and swallowed hard. “You won’t let it go that far, will you, Lydia?” She squeezed her hand hard and frightened, “Please, you must find another way.”

Lydia nodded, taking a deep breath. “I will. I will…”

Allison didn’t say anything. She hugged her close, gently petting her hair and just let Lydia cry.

***

By the time she and Allison rapped on the Blakes’ front door, all of Lydia’s tears had dried. The young footman had the courtesy grimace in sympathy when he saw them. He didn’t offer to take their coats but rather lead them to the back kitchen without another word.

The Blakes; Ethan, Aidan and their mother, waited for them. An alpha woman with dark olive skin that Lydia didn’t recognize stood behind Jennifer, playing idly with a butterfly knife. Aiden scowled, pushing his chair back from the table.  In a moment, he was inches from Lydia’s face, breathing in deeply. He turned and glared at his brother.

“You said she was fucking an alpha bitch,” he snarled, “I don’t smell it.”

“She probably bathes, Aiden,” Ethan drawled, pouring himself a cup of tea from a dented pot on the stove. “I know what I saw and so does she. Why do you think she’s here?”

Aiden said nothing but sniffed her again, scowling. “A fucking waste,” he muttered, turning away. “I don’t remember inviting the beta bitch,” he added, spitting at Allison’s feet. Lydia moved to slap his smug face but Allison caught her arm.

“Aiden, sit down,” Mrs. Blake said in a bored voice. “Do not antagonize your mate.”  

“He is not my mate!” Lydia snapped as Aiden sat down next to his mother. “I don’t care what you think you saw,” she added with a glare to Ethan, “I won’t be blackmailed into marriage, or mating.”

Mrs. Blake blinked at her and smiled. “Do sit down, Miss Martin, Miss Argent? Would you care for something to drink? Juice perhaps, given your clumsiness with the tea at our last meeting.”

“I don’t want-”

“Kali?” Jennifer turned to the black haired woman behind her, “if you would be so kind?”

The Alpha woman nodded and crossed silently to the icebox, emerging with a chilled pitcher of bright red liquid. She placed two glasses in front of Lydia and Allison, and returned to her place behind Mrs. Blake. The omega woman beamed, looking suddenly younger than Lydia had ever seen her, and took Kali’s hand, squeezing tightly and kissing it. “Thank you, my love,”

Kali softened, almost imperceptibly, and kissed Mrs. Blake full on the lips. Beside her, Allison gasped. Aiden rolled his eyes but Ethan smiled from his place by stove. Mrs. Blake took no notice as she caressed Kali’s cheek, playing softly with a wisp of loose black hair. When they broke apart, Lydia had managed to pick her jaw up off the floor but had yet to recover her words.

Mrs. Blake chuckled. “You’re speechless, Miss Martin. It must feel very odd.”

Lydia swallowed, “You- you have a husband…” was all she could manage.

She nodded, sipping her own cranberry juice. “Deucalion, father of my children. What of him?”

“How?” She couldn’t help but glance around the room, owned and filled by enemies, for some kind of explanation. None came forward. The Blakes seemed bemused with her confusion. At last she settled again on Jennifer, “Why?”

“Sit down, Miss Martin,” Mrs. Blake said, “We have a future to plan.”

Lydia sat. Allison sat beside her, glancing nervously at Kali. Mrs. Blake leaned forward, placing her clasped hands on the table.  She smiled.

“Now, Miss. Martin, let us dispense with the posturing. You’ve proven yourself intelligent. I respect that in an omega woman.” Lydia bristled but held her tongue as Mrs. Blake continued seemlessly  “You must realize that you have no advantage over us. You will marry Aiden, mate him, provide him with as many children as he sees fit,” the Alpha in question let out a lewd chuckle, stopping only when his mother glared at him, “The alternative is your parents discovering your indiscretions, this Cora Hale person will be sent to prison… a very unpleasant experience as Kali can tell you, and you will likely be carted off to the nunnery, if they don’t marry you off to some hungarian count against your will, or hide you away in the attic, like the heroine in some silly melodrama. I don’t want that for a young lady of your potential and you certainly don’t want that for yourself, do you?”

“You think you can blackmail me into-”

“I am not blackmailing you,” Mrs. Blake said sharply. “I am offering you a good life, a life most women would kill for. It’s not merely a matter of avoiding unpleasantness. You stand to gain a place in the most connected family in Beacon Hills, a strong Alpha husband, strong children and protection for the rest of your life. Take the offer.”

“And what do you stand to gain, Mrs. Blake,” Allison asked. “Why Lydia? Why not another Omega, one who’d come willingly, without extortion?”

“Because I want that one.” Aiden growled, leering at Lydia.

“Hush,” his mother snapped. “If you can’t conduct yourself like an adult, you can leave, Aiden.”

He scowled. “Fine,” he shoved his chair back hard enough that it toppled backwards and stalked out of the kitchen. Mrs. Blake sighed wearily.

“I’ll go after him,” Ethan said, pushing himself off the wall and following his brother out of the room. Mrs. Blake shook her head.

“I apologize, Miss Martin. Aiden is… used to getting what he wants but he’s strong. He’ll make a good husband.”

“Not for me, he won’t.” Lydia said.

Mrs. Blake rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a child, dear. It’s quite unbecoming. As to your question, Miss Argent, my reasons for matching Aiden with Miss Martin are my own and precisely none of your concern. Miss Martin seems to rely on you so I’ve allowed your presence at what ought to be a family affair. If you argue with me again, I will rescind that privilege. I understand your frustration, Miss Martin. Doubtless, you’d have gotten on better with Ethan but you know his preferences. I won’t condemn my son to a marriage he won’t enjoy.”

“But you’ll do the same to me?” Lydia said.

“You’re an Omega woman,” Mrs. Blake said, with an air of commiseration. “You ought to be used to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oy, sorry it's so late but today was Stressful. 
> 
> Also, I am getting to the end of my prewritten chapters so the weekly updates are gonna stop pretty quick.


	9. Chapter 9

Much as Cora would enjoy spending all her night beating the crap out of arrogant alpha men and fucking her mate all morning, she did still have to earn a living. Fight runners never wanted to book her too much, lest  the novelty of a female alpha wear off. Maybe they just got tired of her winning.

Either way, she lifted boxes down by the harbor with Boyd at her side. Silver lining to her accidental status, nobody quite knew what to do with her. Omega girls never worked, too delicate. Beta girls got to be secretaries or ladies maids. They didn’t get to work outside in the fresh air, feel their muscles strain with boxes of machinery. She’d never have met Boyd as a Beta or Omega girl, not unless her race changed too. He’d gotten enough bullshit just dating a blonde beta… never mind consorting with any full white woman. Cora wasn’t quite full. She’d called her mother’s mother Abuela but her own last name was white, along with her skin.

“You’re quiet,” he said, biting into his sandwich at break time.

“You’re one to talk,” Cora snorted.

“Thing about being quiet…” Boyd said, leaning back on to the docks, his long legs dangling over the ocean, “You notice more when other people don’t talk.”

“Just thinkin’ about bullshit,” she said.

“Don’t.” Boyd advised. “You comin’ to Erica’s show tonight?”

“Yeah, of course,” Cora grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“What about Lydia?” The foreman’s whistle sounded before Cora could answer. They stood and returned to work. The sun blazed down on her aching muscles but Cora couldn’t bring herself to mind much. Boyd was right, as usually. There wasn’t any point in worrying over what she couldn’t control. She had her friends, she had Lydia, nothing else matter that much. Even Derek was happier than he’d been since before the war.

The work ended just after six, enough time to stop in at home before Erica’s show. Last time, Lydia had been waiting for her when she got home, grinning like she just defrauded the national mint. The sight gave Cora a possessive thrill resulting in slow, lazy sexy in the kitchen.

As she left the docks with Boyd, Cora saw a well dressed woman waiting for them. She wore a fine yellow suit with trousers and a wide brimmed hat but nothing could disguise her feminine curves. Cora couldn’t help the way her eyes strayed over the slender form, smaller than Lydia but just as alluring if in a different way. “Cora Hale?” she asked in a low voice as she and Boyd passed. Cora glanced over her shoulder unsure if she hadn’t imagined it.

The woman smiled, tilting her chin up so Cora could see her bright hazel eyes. The alpha’s stomach dropped. “Kira Yukimura,” she said with a sigh, “What’s Peter done now?”

The black haired woman chuckled softly. “I’m sure I don’t know, Miss Hale. My mother hasn’t seen him in over forty eight hours. It’s been extremely pleasant.”

“Well,” Cora shrugged. “I don’t know where he is and we paid you last week.”

“I’m not here about money, or Peter,” Kira smiled, showing of incredibly white teeth like she wanted to sink them into Cora’s neck. “I’d like to offer you a job.”

Cora glanced back at Boyd who had stopped to listen a few feet away. He shrugged, giving the decision to her. She turned back to Kira. “What kind of job?”

“Not the kind you discuss in the middle of the street,” Kira said, “We should adjourn someplace quieter if you’d like to discuss it.”

Cora sighed. She was tired from the last job still and she wanted to go and see her Omega. Plus the Yukimura family had a reputation which she experienced the worst of second hand from Peter. Those that failed them ended up in the river while those who disappointed them lost the use of their fingers, sometimes permanently. They also paid, very well. Cora could beat up twenty alphas a night and pull down less than Noshiko Yukimura could give her.

Kira gave a slight cough, signalling her patience was coming to an end. Cora winced. “How illegal is it?”

“No more than you are,” Kira smiled.

Cora snorted. “Alpha bitch jokes, just the way I like to start a job.”

Kira’s smile faltered. “I did not intend to offend, Miss Hale. I apologize for my thoughtlessness.”

Cora shook her head, blinking a little at a bit of a loss to cope with the sudden contrition.  “It’s fine,” she said, smiling weakly. “Yeah, okay, tell me about the job.”

“Wonderful.” Kira nodded, “My mother’s shop is just on the other side of the bay, if you will follow me.”

“I’m coming with,” Boyd said, loping along beside them.

Kira raised a thin eyebrow but remained otherwise impassive. Cora shrugged. She could probably use the company, especially in Little Tokyo. She gestured over to Kira, Lydia’s influence rubbing off on her. “Miss Kira Yukimura, this is Mister Vernon Boyd III.”

“Just Boyd,” said Boyd, offering his hand. Kira took it easily.

“I know Mr. Boyd by reputation.” She said, “I’m sure my mother will be pleased to meet him.”

Noshiko Yukimura’s tea shop sat between two seemingly innocuous tenement buildings. Cora had pulled a drunk Peter from the confines of the gambling den beneath often enough. The tea shop itself was little more than a walk in closet with a couple of chairs but the basement took up most of the block, filled with the various illegal delights that captured her uncle’s attention. Kira took them around to the back alley, Cora wondering if she’d ever in her life entered through the front door.

After descending a mud covered staircase, Kira gave a complicated knock and a password in Japanese. “This way,” she said, gesturing at the rust covered door that opened before them.

Cora hadn’t visited Yukimura’s in years, not since she started prize fighting and Derek became the principle Peter-sitter. Noshiko disapproved of fighting, as a general rule. In fact, Peter had been kicked out for starting trouble with the other patrons more than for cheating at cards. The long hall of card tables and crap games was empty except for a few maids. Boyd was the only man in the joint but the women didn’t pay any attention to either him or Cora, only greeting Kira as she passed them. She lead Cora and Boyd to the very end of the hall where another door waited. There was no password for this one, no complex knock. Kira just pushed it open  and showed them inside.

Noshiko Yukimura did not smile when they entered. Cora had seen her smile exactly once, at something Kira had said, a decade ago. Still, her voice was soft when she told them to sit. “Would you like tea?” she said, taking them into her unblinking stare.

Boyd nodded, unable or unwilling to speak. Boyd was often quiet. It was the principal characteristic that first attracted him to Cora but she had never seen her friend intimidated before. It was more disconcerting that the crime boss’s impassive stare.

“Miss Hale?” Noshiko prompted.

“No… thanks,” Cora said, belatedly remembering her manners. “I’d like to know what this is about, if that’s alright. If it’s Peter, I don’t know where he is.”

“Your uncle’s whereabouts do not concern me,” Noshiko said, “I’m sure Kira has told you about my offer of employment.”

“Nothing specific no.”

“What do you know of Opium, Miss Hale?”

Cora shrugged. “Comes outta china and there ain’t any here.”

“Do you know why there isn’t any opium in Beacon Hills?” Noshiko asked. She didn’t smile, but each of her gleaming white teeth was perfectly on display. Cora shook her head. “Because I forbid it. The poppy is incredibly addictive and turns the users into fools and criminals. Someone is attempting to bring the poppy into Beacon Hills. I want you to find out who. I know you work quickly and avoid the attentions of the police. You know I will pay you handsomely for the service.”

That, Cora knew for certain. Noshiko Yukimura did not win control the population of Little Tokyo by being cheap. She bought off cops, federal agents and most importantly paid her employees well enough that the loss of her income undid any benefit of reward. She also didn’t win control Little Tokyo by turning down business opportunities.

“Seems like you could make a lot of money in that.”

“Yes,” Yukimura agreed, “but somethings are more important than money.” She paused, as Kira entered again, carrying tea on a tray. “Thank you, my dear.”

“Of course, Mama,” Kira smiled, placing another cup in front of Boyd.

“Opium destroys people. “ Yukimura continued. “Gambling, alcohol… these are minor vices compared to the poppy. Your uncle, Miss Hale, would be particularly vulnerable to its charms. It may very well kill him.”

“I don’t care about Peter,” Cora scoffed, glaring at the floor.

“Really?” Yukimura’s eyebrows rose slightly as she took a sip of tea. “Perhaps I was confused since you asked after him.”

“I didn’t-”

“Beyond the immediate effects on the user, the trade harms my community,” Noshiko and Kira exchanged dark looks. We have enough troubles  without white people blaming us for their excess.”

“Why should they blame you?” Cora said, “Opium’s Chinese. You’re Japanese.”

“Stupid question.” Boyd muttered.

“Quite,” Noshiko nodded. “The Orientals are all the same to quote our esteemed congressmen. Sadly, not everyone shares my prudence. Someone is attempting to revive the Opium trade in Beacon Hills. I wish you to put a stop to it.”

“What?” Cora starred. Noshiko sipped her tea, as unconcerned as if she’d simply requested Cora’s assistance in cleaning out the gutters. “Why me?”

“Why not you, Ma’am?” Boyd asked, tilting his head slightly to peer at the crime boss. “You seem to have some experience with it.”

Noshiko nodded. “I do, Mr. Boyd, but when I drove the Poppy from my home I was a young woman, unnoticed and unconcerning to my enemies. Now I am pillar of the community, a mother, a wife. I cannot slip as silently through the shadows as I once could. You can.”

Cora snorted, rolling her eyes. “Lady, I’m an Alpha Bitch,”

“Do not swear in my presence, please, Miss Hale,” Yukimura interrupted her. “I’m aware of your status and its effect on you life. You are aware, I have no doubt, that an Alpha status, or that of Omega or Beta is based purely on the pheromones given out?”

“And our junk,” Cora said.

“Unless you’re planning to seduce the opium suppliers, I don’t that will come up,” Yukimura said. “Pheromones can be altered.”

“They can’t though,” Boyd said, his brow furrowed. “That’s the first thing they teach you in biology.”

Yukimura shared a smirk with her daughter. “This is why I send you to private school. Mr. Boyd, how would you classify my status?”

Boyd glanced at Cora, hesitant. “You’re a beta, aren’t you?” Cora said, breathing in deep to try and detect some hidden tricker. Both the Yukimura women were Betas, she recognized the calming pheromone designed by God to keep Alphas from killing everyone and Omegas from fucking everything that stood still long enough. The bible phrased it differently but Cora remembered that lesson of Sunday school.

“Am I?” Yukimura said and handed her a small bottle. “Smell that.”

Cora took the crystal vial of brown liquid and tentatively sniffed. Then she breathed in deep, unable to wrap her mind around what she was smelling. Her thoughts immediately flew to Laura, the sister she lost just when she thought nothing else could be taken from her. This liquid, the strange brown perfume Yukimura handed her, was like Laura in a bottle.

“Beta pheromones,” Yukimura said smoothly. “Originally distilled to combat the unrest in Munich but… with some adjustments, coupled with a heat or rut suppressant, its quite useful in terms of disguise.”

Cora stared at it, inhaling again and again. How long had it been since she sented a Beta? Peter never volunteered to help calm Derek during his nightmares so Cora never asked, never considered asking to scent her uncle. Comforting as he was, Boyd was an Alpha and even his calm would break if someone else tried to scent Erica. She didn’t know any other Betas, at least not well enough for this so… it must have been Laura. She hadn’t sented a Beta since her sister died.

“Where did you get the pheromones?” Boyd asked, frowning.

“They were given freely,” Yukimura blinked, “At least mine were. I can’t speak to any other experiments.”

“How?” Boyd leaned forward, his deep voice calm but incredulous. “How do you remove something so instrumental… so tied to a person’s identity?”

Yukimura shrugged. “A status is an aspect of identity, Mr. Boyd. Certain individuals can move with relative invisibility due to such an aspect. I am evening the playing field.”

“It’s not a game-”

“I’ll do it.” Cora said. Boyd stopped, staring at her. Cora have to actually meet his gaze to know he disapproved. She didn’t care, staring at Yukimura. “You give me this and it’s done. I promise you.”

Yukimura closed her eyes and nodded. “Excellent, Miss Hale. Kira will tell you all you need to know and ensure that a vial of beta pheromones is delivered to you every week, along with your pay.”

“Is friday good for you?” Kira said with a bright smile, as though they were planning a tea party.

“Wait,” Cora said, “how much are you paying me?”

“Fifty dollars a day, plus expense,” Yukimura said. “I assume that is acceptable.”

“Good,” Cora said, “Knock off ten of that if you ban Peter from your club.”

“Consider it done,” Yukimura nodded. “I can’t say I will miss him, Miss Hale.”

Cora shrugged, rubbing her thumb along the curve of the bottle. Her hand shook, the crystal clinking together in her fist. Boyd stared at her. He frowned, gripping the arms of his chair like he wanted to break them off.

“Mr. Boyd?” Yukimura said, “You could assist her. I’d be happy to pay you and provide a copy of the pheromones, if you’d like.”

“No.” he said in a soft, dangerous tone. “I’ll take the job, ma’am, and the money, but I don’t want that stuff.”

Yukimura shrugged. “Fair enough. I can point you to the suppliers contact. His name is Rhys, a white man with connections to Little Tokyo. Follow him and I suspect you’ll find whoever is bring Opium into Beacon Hills.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay Yukimuras! Had to work them in somehow. Sorry they have to run an illegal gambling ring but this is set just after the Immigration Act of 1924, an off shoot of the Chinese Exclusionary Act which severely limited immigration not just from China, Korea and Japan but a whole bunch of other asian countries, african countries and eastern and southern european countries. Basically, Yellow Peril is at a fever pitch so guess who's short on legal opportunities for success in our proud racist nation? It's my favorite characters introduced in 3B!
> 
> Anyway, as those following Shrapnel (The Sterek Prequel that will eventually catch up to this fic) already know that I have officially run out of buffer for these stories. Things took turns I did not expect but that I think you will enjoy. So The fics will be updated every other week. 
> 
> Also, I would love if you guys could do me a huge favor and download my original story: To Move On at https://freeditorial.com/en/books/to-move-on . Normally, I wouldn't ask but each download gets me closer to winning the contest. Winning the contest means money for my student loans and my rent and things I need to keep writing weird A/B/O fem slash of The Roaring Twenties! So please download or share with your chums! Thanks!


	10. Chapter 10

Lydia’s grandmother summoned her the day after Julia Blake’s ultimatum. She managed to keep calm through the long walk home with Allison, having very pointedly refused a ride in their motor car. She maintained her composure when she told her parents she’d made up with Aiden Blake. She didn’t go to see Cora.

“There’s a way out of this,” she said to Allison in the confines of her bedroom. “We could leave… go into hiding.”

Allison swallowed, looking momentarily panicked. “You’d have to go a long way,” she said. “If you were caught, Cora would be charged with abducting an Omega. Maybe europe, if we could get some money together.”

“Father gives me an allowance but it isn’t much…” Lydia frowned, adding up the time in her head. “Eighteen months for steerage class… and I’d have to get a fake passport unless I convinced Grandmother to take me to Paris but Father’d only allow that if it was for a fitting-” she took a deep inhale and forced herself to remain calm. “Cora has rent to worry about and her brother… and her uncle for all she says she hates him. And I’d have to leave you, wouldn’t I?”

Allison’s lip trembled. She shook her head. “Father often talks of taking me to visit Grandpierre but, after I get married…”

“Damn,” Lydia muttered, squeezing her eyes shut tightly.“Damn them,”

“My Grandpierre?” Allison said, with a rueful smile, “Well he’s not exactly on the right size of the law, or particularly kind to anyone else but he always sent us such lovely chocolates while we were in school.”

Lydia shook her head, refusing to embrace her dearest friend’s levity. “Julia Blake and Aiden and Ethan and my father and the whole damned mess of them. I’d leave them and this whole wretched town but then there’s you and Derek and everyone else. And they’d probably arrest us in customs anyway. Her for abducting her own damn mate and I for assaulting an officer of the law!”

Allison chuckled and wrapped her arms around Lydia’s shoulders, drawing her into a close hug. Lydia squeezed her tightly, breathing in that soothing beta scent. She could not keep the tears of frustration from running down her face and on to Allisons black hair hanging loose around her neck. “Shh,” the orange scented Beta murmured, “We’ll find another way, Lydia. It’ll be alright.”

That promise kept her from bolting out of the pristine town house her grandmother called home. Lorraine Martin was unique among Omegas. After Lydia’s grandfather died, she inherited his house and a good portion of his fortune while Lydia’s father only received control of the business and investments. Grandmere didn’t have the ability to make money but she lived in simple elegance with only a few key servants to help her manage the house. Lydia admired her grandmother, though she’d always been distant. Lydia needed distance.

Lorraine entered, leaning heavily against a sleek black cane, with Maddy by her side. “Grandmere,” Lydia said, moving to kiss the old Omega’s cheek but Lorraine shooed her away.

“No need for that, dear, no need,” she said, sitting on a long chaise longue. “I’m very glad to see you but we are no longer in your father’s house. There’s no need to pretend an affection that isn’t there.”

“Isn’t it?” Lydia said, blinking.

Lorraine waved her hand dismissively. “Of course, my darling, I am exceedingly fond of you, and proud too. You’re a beautiful young lady, Lydia, and surpassingly intelligent but we haven’t the knowledge of each other necessary for a good friendship. Now, perhaps you will tell me why you are here?”

“I wanted to see you, grandmere,” she said, smiling with all her teeth.

“I’m certain you did put to what purpose.” Lorraine asked, still smiling. “but why do you want to see me?”

 _I need money_. Of course she couldn’t say that right off the bat. If you actually asked for money, you’d never get any. The trick was convincing someone they wanted to give you them money, or so Cora had explained. Of course, Cora’s primary source of income was punching people in the face so Lydia just smiled and said, “A girl can’t just want to see her grandmother?”

“Historically speaking-” Lorraine began.

“Miss Lydia, would you like some lemonade?” Maddy said, standing quickly. “Ms Lorraine?”

The elderly Omega frowned slightly but said, “Yes, thank you, Maddy. That would be lovely.” She spoke in a tight, clipped voice and turned back to Lydia. “If there is something bothering you, Lydia, please tell me. I can assure you, anything you say will remain absolute confidence.”

Lydia swallowed hard. She stared down at the elegant red carpet until Maddy appeared beside her with a glass of lemonade in her hand. Lydia took it, murmuring perfunctuary thanks. She took a small sip and set it down. It tasted of acid.

“Lydia,” her grandmother slid forward and placed a withered hand on hers. “Do you remember when you were very young, before you left for school, when I would read to you?”

She nodded. “The Little Mermaid,” she said. She had been obsessed with the book as a little girl, partially due to the picture copy Grandmere had which depicted the mermaid with studding brilliant red hair. Lydia had never read any stories where the princess had red hair.

“Do you remember what happened to her?” Lorraine asked.

“Grandmere, you must have read the story a hundred times,” Lydia said, smiling a little inspite of herself.

Lorraine chuckled. “Indulge an old woman. What happened to The Little Mermaid?”

“She died,” Lydia said. It was always the worst part of the story. “She couldn’t kill the prince so she couldn’t go back to the ocean and she died.” She became sea foam and the story said that each time a child was good, the little mermaid got one step closer to heaven but that seemed a paltry comfort to her six year old self.

Lorraine stared at her, her dark gray eyes peering into the recesses of Lydia’s very soul. “Why did she die, Lydia? Not because of the prince, why did she really die?”

“Grandmere?”

“You remember she went to the sea witch for legs, yes?” Lorraine prompted, “but before that she went to her grandmother to ask about the human world. Why didn’t she ask for help from her family? Why make a deal with the devil and lose her own voice?”

“Perhaps she thought her family wouldn’t help her,” Lydia said, swallowing.

“Perhaps she was wrong,” her grandmother smiled weakly. “Now, my dear, why have you come to see me?”

Lydia look a long, shuddering breath. “It’s Aiden Blake.”

“Ah,” Lorraine raised her eyebrow, “The alpha boy you spilled your tea on?”

“Yes,” Lydia nodded. “He wants me to marry him.”

“And what do you want?”

“I don’t want to marry him,” Lydia said and suddenly the floodgates burst open. “I don’t want anything I’m meant to want! I don’t want a husband or children or a good place as an omega woman. Father and Mother have my life planned out for me and I do not want any of it!”

“But what do you want, Lydia?” her grandmother put her hand on Lydia’s shoulder and squeezed. She hadn’t noticed her move. “Or it a who?”

“Her,” Lydia whispered, unable to hold back the tears. “My mate.”

Her grandmother wrapped her arms around Lydia and pulled her into a tight hug. “My dear girl,” she whispered, overcome with emotion. “My dearest girl.”

Lydia breathed in deeply, burying her face in the salt and cinnamon of her grandmother’s hair. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this way. The closest she could think of was climbing into bed with Cora, as naked as the day she was born, just to sleep in perfect safety. Even those moments alone with the person she cherished more than anyone, weren’t as liberating as this. Lorraine sighed and stroked her hair. She pulled back a little too quickly for Lydia’s liking and chuckled a little. “Don’t cry, my dear,” she said, blinking away her own tears. “You have nothing to mourn her. You’ve been very brave.”

“You aren’t angry?” Lydia said, letting her tears roll down her cheeks. “Or ashamed?”

“Far from it,” Lorraine smiled. “Maddy,” she called into the other room. “You were right...”

The maid burst in, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s that Beta girl, isn’t it? Argent?”

“Allison?” Lydia blinked. “No, it’s- she’s engaged to another Beta… a man.”

Maddy rolled her green eyes. “Didn’t stop this one,” she said, jerking her head toward Lorraine who blushed slightly.

Lydia swallowed and belatedly remembered to wipe her eyes. “Grandmere?”

“Maddy, I haven’t told her yet,” she said. Her voice was cross but she was also smiling softly. The maid covered her mouth and mumbled a guilty apology.

“It’s alright, love,” Lorraine said, and turned back to her granddaughter, “if Lydia trusted me with the truth, I should return the favor. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before but I think you’ll understand my reasons, dear. Maddy is my mate. She has been since before you were born.”

Lydia’s jaw dropped. She glanced between her grandmother and Maddy. Maddy smiled with her lips closed. Her hands trembled a little in the silence of the room. Lydia closed her mouth and swallowed hard, remembering all the times she had looked passed this woman, how she’d ignored or taken her for granted. She looked up at Maddy with tears in her eyes. “I am so sorry. I should have known- I should-”

Maddy shook her head, soft black finger curls swaying as she moved. “It’s done with, Miss Lydia. You haven’t got anything-”

Lydia shook her head. “I do. I apologize, to both of you. You shouldn’t have too… my god, you ought to have been my grandmother.”

“I did do my fair share of storytelling,” Maddy smiled weakly. “For goodness’ sakes’, Miss Lydia, don’t cry!”

She shook her head again, laughing a little, “Don’t call me that, for god’s sake. No one is to call me Miss Lydia, ever again, especially not you.”

“Alright,” she nodded quietly, “but what are we going to do about Aiden Blake?”

Lydia sat down again, running her fingers through her long red hair. “I have no idea,” she said. The admission was at once freeing and constricting. Grandmother wrinkled her nose as if she’d just smelled something rotten.

“Well you certainly aren’t marrying him,” she said flatly. “Entirely out of the question.”

“I hadn’t intended to,” Lydia said.

“Good!” the old woman nodded sharply. “I can’t stand this self sacrificing nonsense in young people! We’ll find some way out of this without shackling you to some callous Alpha male!”

“You were married, Lor,” Maddy said with a small sniff.

“Before I met you,” Lorraine said with a wave of her hand. “and besides, then it was necessary. I needed Harold to survive, sacrifices had to be made… Lydia doesn’t have such a burden.”

“You needed Grandfather to survive?” Lydia asked. She barely remembered Lorraine’s husband, a taller, sterner version of her father.

Lorraine nodded resignedly. “Oh none of that bunk about heats and biological imperatives!” she added, off of Lydia’s face. “How many omegas have been trapped with that Cro Magnon theory that only an Alpha’s cock can heal a heat? That we’d die without a man’s seed inside us? Absolutely ridiculous!” Maddy placed her hand on Lorraines shoulder and gave a small squeeze. Lydia’s grandmother shook herself and continued. “It was a simple economic manner, my dear. We’d lost a great deal of our wealth over the years and my father remedied the situation by promising our title and my person in exchange for Harold’s new money.”

“If my father found out,” Lydia began but her grandmother cut her off.

“My son is hardly the most observant individual in the world,” she said with a deep frown. “He won’t find out unless someone tells him.  I have no intention of divulging your concerns without your consent, Lydia, my dear, but I doubt The Blakes share my reticence. We must be prepared for him to find out. If he should raise a fuss, well… you’ll come and stay with us.”

Lydia looked to Maddy who nodded. “Seems like we oughta take you in anyway. It isn’t as though Mr. Harold will stop trying to marry you off.”

“No,” Lydia shook her head. Her father’s house held little joy for her but the thought of leaving it didn’t precisely cheer her either. It felt… disloyal, even if she was only going to live with her grandmother. Perhaps all that nonsense about a woman’s gratitude had stuck, despite her best efforts to dislodge it. “I wouldn’t wish to inconvenience either of you.”

“Or maybe you’re more interested in staying with your mate?” Maddy said with a sly smile. “You never told us who she is, if not the Argent girl?”

“Her name is Cora,” Lydia said, letting the warmth fill her chest as it always did when she thought of the prize fighter. “She’s an Alpha.”

Maddy and her grandmother exchanged nervous looks but didn’t say anything. Lydia knew what they were thinking though. Alpha Women were considered dangerous, their womanly urge to submit at war with their alpha urge to dominate made the erratic. Nonsense of course but such nonsense had a habit of worming its way into public consciousness. No one ever said Omega men were dangerous because of their warring imperatives. “She’s lovely,” Lydia said, trying not to bristle too much in Cora’s defense.

“I’m certain she is,” Lorraine said, recovering herself quickly. “We’d be delighted to meet her some time. Of course, if her family disapproves of the match, we shall take her in as well.”

Lydia smiled. She could no more imagine Cora in the posh townhouse than she could imagine herself hauling fish in at the harbor. “They approve,” the one that mattered anyway. Lydia hadn’t seen Cora’s uncle since that night and she wasn’t eager to see him again. “The Blakes threatened her,” she said, the sick feeling suddenly returning to her stomach. “They know who she is. They could go both of them.”

“We shant allow it, my dear.” Lorraine said sagely

Maddy reached over and squeezed Lydia’s hand. “It’s your decision.” she said with finality, “just as long as you know the options.”

“Thank you,” Lydia said in a small voice. She let her shoulders drop down, the tension of the past few days… of most of her life, finally breaking. She wasn’t alone, a fluke in her own family. She had options. Now she just needed to talk to Cora.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession Time: I actually stopped watching Teen Wolf after Allison so idk what Maddy looked like. I'm getting most of this off the wikia site and frankly there aren't enough Black People in the show so hey, Maddy is black now, if she wasn't already. 
> 
> I did get worried while writing this because the 1920s were a super racist time. The characters' views, however progressive, are a product of this time. The civil war only ended like 60 years ago at this point. Lorraine and Maddy definitely lived part of their lives where the ownership of human beings was a normal thing. I'm not sure if I'd be able to write how they got together well enough to be able to tackle that scope and conflict. I really apologize if I didn't get it right in this fic and I am super willing to make changes based on suggestions (i won't follow everything but I appreciate constructive criticism). Thanks for putting up with it. 
> 
> So, Lydia actually gets to come out to one of her family and it's not traumatizing! Hurray! 
> 
> The trauma comes later.


	11. Chapter 11

They stared at the little crystal bottle in the center of the table. Cora leaned forward, her hands on the table just in case someone tried to snatch it away. Derek’s hand rested on the table as well, though his formed a tight fist. He’d started wearing his prosthesis again, an ugly metal hook that the government provided. When he moved his shoulder just right, it opened and he could pinch things with it but there wasn’t much else to do with it. He hadn’t stopped frowning since Cora and Boyd told him about Yukimura. Boyd leaned back in his chair, seemingly calm though his eyes flicked back and forth between the siblings.

“I don’t like it,” Derek said.

Cora rolled her eyes. “Yes, you’ve made that clear. Care to explain?”

“It feels wrong,” he said. He looked down at the vial and then back up at Cora, “Not to mention dangerous. You shouldn’t pretend to be someone else.”

Boyd nodded. “That’s what I said.”

Cora glared at him. “When did you say that?”

Boyd shrugged. “I say things. You don’t listen.”

“Well, you say the wrong things.” Cora said. “I’d still be me… I just wouldn’t smell like an alpha. Alpha ain’t who I am.”

“You are an alpha though,” Derek insisted. “You shouldn’t pretend to be something else.”

Cora fought not to snap at him. “No, I shouldn’t have to pretend to be something else,” she said, failing a little. “If I smell like a beta, I can… do things. I can walk down the street without getting whispered about.”

“Not in that outfit,” Boyd said. “Besides, Yukimura wants us to flush out the opium supplier. She doesn’t give a shit about your prospects.”

“She might,” Cora took the bottle and turned it over again in her hand. “if I showed her I was good at it… at fixin’ what she needs fixed. It could become something.”

“You wanna be hired muscle for some gangster?” Derek said, a growl creeping into his voice. He glared at her. She glared back. Boyd scratched an itch on the back of his neck. Derek sighed. “Look, you asked me what I thought and I told you. You’re gonna end up doing it anyway but at least you’ll do it knowing the risks… a little.”

“I know the risks,” Cora said.  Her brother shook his head, his eyes resting on the stump where his right arm used to be.

“No one ever knows the risks.” he said, “have you talked to Lydia?”

“No,” she shook her head. Lydia was another problem. Cora knew her mate would never approve of her running down opium dealer, even with the beta scent. She’d have to see the benefits though. She must notice the glares they got when they walked down the street, strangers wondering why a pretty young Omega was hanging around with an Alpha bitch, little better than an animal. No one looked twice if two women walked down the street if they were Beta and Omega. Lydia and Allison did it all the time.

“I haven’t seen her in a few days,” Derek said, carefully. “Everything alright?”

“As far as I know,” Cora shrugged. She’d figured it was something to do with Mr. and Mrs. Martin or perhaps Lydia just needed a bit of space. Heaven knew Cora had been running herself ragged trying to pick up as many spare jobs as she could wrangle. However good things seemed to be right now, they’d need the money later.

“You should talk to her,” Derek said and Boyd nodded.

As if on cue, the door pushed open and Cora’s mate entered, red hair tossled from the wind. Cora stood, crossing the room to meet her, to take her in her arms on instinct alone. “I need to talk to you,” Lydia said.

“Alright,” Cora said, guiding her back towards the bedroom as the men stood up, nervously.

“You have to actually talk to her, Cora,” Derek reminded curtly.

“I’ll see you tonight then? Erica would love to have you two in the audience.” Boyd at least managed a smile as he back toward the door.

“Maybe,” Cora said. She wasn’t altogether certain they would leave the house tonight at all, not with Lydia there, bright cheeked and happy and smelling just gorgeous. Her mate slipped a careful arm around her waist and smiled shyly at Boyd and Derek.

“Tell Erica to break a leg,” she said, waving as Boyd mosied out the back way. He promised he would, carefully closing the door behind him with a significant look at Cora.

Derek sighed and stood up. “It’s good to see you, Lydia,” he said, smiling wearily. He picked up his book from the table. “I’ll be in my room,” he nodded to both of them. His hazel eyes rested on Cora, the exact image of their father, “Talk to her.” he said and went into his bedroom without another word, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Lydia blinked at Cora. “Talk to me about what? Is something wrong?”

“No,” Cora kissed her forehead. “For once, nothing’s wrong. It’s making me nervous.”

“I know the feeling,” Lydia said. “What did Derek mean then?”

“I got a job offer today,” Cora said. She put her hand back in her pocket. She meant to leave the bottle of Beta scent there, to bring it out once she made Lydia understand why she needed this job with Yukimura, needed to know what it was like to be treated like a normal woman for once. She couldn’t quite let the bottle go though. She stood, turning it over in her fingers, waiting for Lydia’s response.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Lydia said, watching Cora carefully.

“Yeah, it’s real good.” Cora said.

“What’s the job? Is it full time?”

Cora shrugged. “Probably full time, yeah.”

“Could you quit fighting?” Lydia said in a small but eager voice.

Cora swallowed. “Lydia… you ever hear of Yukimura? Noshiko Yukimura?”

Her mate shook her head.

“She’s the one who offered me the job. She… runs things over in Little Tokyo.” Cora explained. “Someone’s smuggling Opium into Beacon Hills. Yukimura wants me to find out who. She wants me to stop them.”

Lydia let go of Cora’s waist and sat down at the kitchen table. “So you wouldn’t quit fighting,” she said after a long pause. “You’d just end up fighting people who wanted to kill you.”

"When you say it like that-"

"How else is there to say  it?" Lydia said.

"I'd be doing good," Cora said, "you've seen Peter. Opium in Beacon just means more of him. It’s not just Little Tokyo. It'd seep into the rest of the city. I can help stop it."

_I can be useful to society.  A female alpha can be worth something, even if she has to pretend she's something else._

"What if we didn't stay in Beacon Hills?" Lydia asked in a quiet voice.

“What?” Cora said, not sure if those words were even english.

“What if we didn’t stay in Beacon Hills?” Lydia repeated, squaring her shoulders. “I apologized to Aiden Blake-”

“What?!” Cora practically snarled, her instincts tearing suddenly to the surface.

“He threatened you.” Lydia said sharply. “He wants me to marry him and they’ll put you in jail if I don’t, or worse-”

“No!” Cora barked, closing the space between them and pulling her mate roughly into her arms. Lydia shivered against her, a soft whine escaping her lips. Her scent, overwhelming lilac and desire, rose up to the surface. Cora nipped at her neck, as gentle as she could manage and still leave a mark. “Over my dead body,” she gritted against Lydia’s skin.

“That’s his plan, yes,” Lydia said, barely recovering herself. Her fingers were tangled in Cora’s hair, holding her in place. “I don’t want that, Cora. Of course, I’m not marrying him, or anyone who isn’t you- damn it, Cora, stop that!” her voice squeaked as Cora nuzzled into her neck, practically climbing on top of her.

“You really want me to stop?” Cora asked.

“No,” Lydia said in a soft whine, “but we need to talk about this-”

“So talk,” Cora said, She slipped her hands under Lydia’s ass, still infuriatingly covered with some useless skirt and lifted her up. Lydia didn’t actually take her advice. Instead, she kissed Cora hard, her legs  wrapping around Cora’s waist for a better hold. They stumbled back to Cora’s room, knocking a few items of the counter in their distracted state.

Cora spread Lydia out on her bed, pushing the skirt up for easier access. They’d bother with undressing later, now Cora just needed to taste her, so gorge herself on Lydia’s sweet wet cunt. Her mate’s fingers ran to her hair the moment Cora crouched down before her.

She pressed a small kiss to Lydia’s milk white thigh, just as her mate started to speak. “I told my grandmother about us.”

Cora dropped her face flat on the bed sheet. She glared up at Lydia through half closed eyes. “If you want to stop, you could have just told me to stop. You didn’t have to kill sex forever.”

“I don’t want to stop,” she chuckled softly, petting Cora’s hair.

“Too late now, I’m a nun,” Cora mumbled into the mattress. “Why the hell would you tell your grandmother about us?”

“She asked,” Lydia said. Her voice was soft, almost awed. “She understood, Cora. More than I could have imagined. She was happy for us.”

Cora slid up next to her and kissed her on the cheek. “That’s great, Lydia,” she said. She put her arms around Lydia’s shoulders and squeezed softly. “I’m glad you got to tell her.”

“I never thought I’d get to tell anyone who knew me,” Lydia said. “I was so certain I’d lose them, lose you, if they ever learned the truth. Now Grandmere knows and… she offered to help us, to help me get away from my parents.”  

“Yeah?” Cora asked, warily remembering Lydia’s words earlier about leaving Beacon Hills.

Lydia bit her lip, considering her words. “Grandmere said I could live with her and Maddy. You’d be welcome of course but there’s more to it than just leaving my father’s house. We can’t be together legally in Beacon Hills-”

“We can’t be legal anywhere, Lydia,” Cora said.

“I know,” she swallowed and closed her eyes, “but Europe is less conservative. In Paris, we could-”

“No.”

“Cora,” she sat up as Cora practically leapt from the bed. She pushed her fingers back through her hair, smoothing the parts where Lydia’s fingers mess it up.

“I’m sorry,” she fought to keep her voice calm, “but that’s what you’re asking isn’t it? If I want to leave Beacon Hills or… America? That’s what you’re asking?”

Lydia nodded, visibly paling. Cora shook her head. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I don’t want to lose you but I can’t leave. Derek’s here, my family died here- I can’t-”

Lydia cross the room in a second to where the wall had prevented Cora from backing up any further. “Then we won’t,” she said. She kissed Cora gently, without the demand or urgency of before. Cora sank into her mate’s arms, breathing heavily. “We won’t. I only wanted to ask, that’s all. We aren’t going anywhere, I promise. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know,” Cora said, embarrassed of the tears leaking out of her eyes. She was meant to be stronger than this but… all she could think of was Peter tearing her away from a burning house, how she’d left her family to die once. Derek and Peter wouldn’t survive without the little income she was able to scrape together. She couldn’t leave them again.

Lydia held her for a long while, gently stroking her hair until Cora’s breath steadied. “It’s going to be hard,” she murmured, half to herself. “You know that, don’t you? I don’t think we can stop it.”

“I know,” Cora said, breathing in the warm comfort of her mate and feeling her stomach drop. When had she been able to stop anything?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Clam jammed by plot! Sex is acomin' though.
> 
> heh heh


	12. Chapter 12

Lydia woke to find Cora rubbing against her in bed, mumbling little possessives in her sleep. Smiling, Lydia turned in her mate’s arms and brushed the messy brown/black hair from her closed eyes. “Cora,” she whispered, watching the other woman’s lips tremble prettily. She’d never call Cora pretty to her face. Her mate never grew out of that virulent tomboy phase that Derek described when Lydia asked him about his sister’s childhood. Cora said her name back but didn’t wake, just pulled her in tighter. “Cora,” Lydia said, a little louder, as her mate’s leg circled around hers, like she was going to climb on top, “Cora, wake up. You’re dreaming.”

Cora blinked and groaned. “Sorry,” she said, pulling herself back off Lydia.

“Don’t be,” Lydia gave her a gentle kiss, “Good dream?”

Cora shook her head. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” she said before Lydia could ask.

“Alright,” Lydia blinked. “I suppose you ought to go back to sleep then.”

Cora shook her head and snuggled in closer to Lydia, biting the bullet and straddling her, hips spread wide. “Naw,” she said, bending down to kiss between Lydia’s breasts. “I’m awake now. I wanna do something.”

“Mmm,” Lydia said dreamily, watching Cora kiss and lick down her belly, her pert ass bobbing in the air. “What did you have in mind?

“Don’t worry,” Cora whispered, her lips just brushing at the top of Lydia’s pale red pubic hair. “I got plenty of ideas.”

“Whatever could it be?” Lydia mused, her fingers in Cora’s soft black hair. “Embroidery? Political discussion? Aritma-ah!” the thought shot from her brain as Cora’s tongue flicked just barely inside of her. Heat rose to the surface of Lydia’s skin, that same wanton lust that had erupted while they were arguing. Not arguing, discussing the future but… something primal awoke just the same. Cora lapped at her, spit mixing with Lydia’s natural secretions. She was so wet already, even from just a brief touch of her mate. Cora’s hands slid over her legs to lift her ass up for better vantage.

“Cora,” she muttered, wrapping her legs around the other woman’s shoulders, trying to pull herself closer. “Cora, god, you’re- you’re amazing.”

Cora glanced down at Lydia, her face partially obscured by her mate’s holiest of holies. She took a long teasing lick up Lydia’s clitoris and smiled as the redhead squirmed. “You’re one to talk, Princess,” she whispered, her dark eyes shining as she spoke, “You’re mine, aren’t you, Lydia? I’m the only one who can do this for you?”

She nodded furiously.  “Yours,” she agreed, “Yes, I’m yours and you’re mine, right? Cora?”

“Damn right,” Cora said, her fingers digging rapturously into Lydia’s ass, marking her. She went back to her ministrations. Lydia moaned beneath the pleasing weight of her tongue pressed inside her, watering idly between her nerves to bring the greatest mix of joy and frustration. She babbled softly, unaware of what came out of her mouth beyond Cora’s name and pleas for more. Her fingers curled around the bed sheets, trying to hold on as Cora delved inside of her.

She relaxed again as her orgasm burst through her, a breaking wave of pure pleasure escaping her body. Her fingers uncurled and she felt weightless as Cora lowered her back on to her bed. The alpha slid up her body, still mostly on top of her, and gave her a gentle kiss. “You taste that?” she asked in a strange, quiet voice. “You taste yourself on my lips?”

“Yes,” Lydia said.

“And?” The Alpha prompted.

“It’s sweet,” Lydia said, running her tongue over the soft red flesh. Cora kissed her again.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “You’re addictive, Lyd. I can’t give it up.”

“Cora,” Lydia rolled onto her side, wrapping her arms around the slender neck. “Cora, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Cora said, even as she slid closer, wrapping her arms tight around Lydia’s waist. “You’re here.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Lydia promised. She nuzzled into Cora’s neck, pressing a kiss to sweet, sunbaked skin. Cora said nothing but traced the outline of her shoulder with her fingers, like she was trying to memorize the rest of her body, the parts she hadn’t quite gotten around to licking yet.  

They lay together like that in comfortable silence. The sun flickered in from the window just above them, opening on to the very edge of the gutter, through dirty threadbare curtains. Lydia listened intermittently to Cora’s heartbeat and the city waking up around them. She ought to go home, she knew. Every easy morning like this was a disaster waiting to happen. It would only take her mother barging into her bedroom or her father telephoning the Argents to see when she was getting home for this blissful serenity to shatter. Yet, as Cora played with her hair, kissing her without urgency, whenever the mood struck her, Lydia could think of no other place she should ever be.

“My heat’s coming soon,” she murmured. “I can feel it.”

“Good.” Cora said. She twisted a lock of fire red hair around her finger. “Love your heats.”

“Mmm,” Lydia said. Heats used to be such a chore but with Cora… she finally knew what everyone was raving about when they talked of the mating bed. “Will you be around or-?”

Cora kissed her hard then, slow and meaningful. Lydia whimpered beneath her, twisting to bare her neck for her Alpha. Cora slid down her neck, sucking warm red marks on the skin. “I will always be there,” she promised with her lips still pressed to Lydia’s skin. “I will touch you where you need.”

Lydia said nothing but pushed her fingers through Cora’s hair and held her firmly in place.

Of course there was no guarantee that Cora could keep her promise. They fucked lazily, like they had all the time in the world, but eventually they could hear Derek moving in the kitchen. Lydia pulled herself out of bed and kissed Cora’s hands when she tried to pull her back. They dressed, talked a bit and took their breakfasts. Then Cora walked her back to Allison’s house, careful to keep close while certain not to touch. Lydia kept an eye out for the Blake twins or any of their confederates, though she was sure she wouldn’t recognize them if she saw them. She’d been certain last night that no one followed her from Allison’s but perhaps they were watching the Hale apartment as well. Paranoid as it was, Lydia couldn’t shake the feeling that something was soon to go wrong.

Cora noticed, of course. She sidled up to Lydia, again careful not to touch or look directly at her in the fancier part of town. “I told you, it’ll be alright,” she said in a soft voice that only Lydia could hear. “You’ll be alright.”

“Can I see you tonight?” Lydia said as the Argent house loomed ahead of them.

Cora smiled. “I’d like that,” she said and put her hands in the pockets of her trousers, "But maybe you wanna stick close to home tonight? Don't risk comin' before your heat."

Lydia frowned. "You're right." She crossed her arms in front of her chest, suddenly cold.  Cora made a concerned sound and reached to touch her but stopped just in time. She grimaced and her open palm curled into a fist. "I hate this," she admitted in a soft voice. "I wanna see you tonight. I wanna see you every night. I wanna fucking kiss you right now and tell you it'll be okay but-"

Lydia bit her lip and closed her eyes. "It will be," she said very quietly. "It's not now. I know it's not but it will be."

Cora nodded once and they continued on. "I'll talk to my grandmother." Lydia said, "she'll help, even if we stay in Beacon."

"If you say so," Cora said. They walked in silence. The Argent house loomed ahead like a sentinel. Lydia swallowed again unable to relieve the dryness in her throat. Allison's house only served as a middle ground to avoid exposing Cora. The Blakes found her anyway but Lydia couldn't quite abandon her precautions. The illusion of control, the idea that she could guarantee their safety if she were just careful enough, was all Lydia had.

"So," Cora said, following her gaze to the red stone of the Argent house, "Sunday? Meet at Lahey's? I should have a fight but we can head home after and-" she smiled toothily and waggled her eyebrows.

Lydia cracked a smile. "Sunday," she agreed. Cora nodded and brushed past her, their shoulders meeting only briefly before she disappeared down the street. Lydia did not watch her but steeled her nerves and headed toward the Argent house.

***

The pulp novels Cora stole from Peter as a child  severely overestimated the excitement of being a detective. She and Boyd  spent the better part of their time wandering through the seedy speakeasies and illegal gambling dens Beacon Hills had to offer, seeing what they could over hear. Yukimura had been right. There were plenty of whispers regarding the opium trade but not many felt concrete. Some maintained that the poppy would never come to California while other said it was already there. When either Boyd or Cora asked where, whoever spoke got shifty and mumbled something about urgent business elsewhere. They'd heard Rhys, the white man Noshiko mentioned frequented this place but so did any number of white men just shy of respectable. Everything they heard about him was so nondescript. Brown hair, brown eyes, white skin, no scars. Cora was tempted to just start asking randomly.

"There's gotta be a less boring way to do this," she said.

"Look on the bright side," Boyd sipped his moonshine and grimaced, "We been at this three days? That's a hundred fifty bucks in your pocket you didn't have before."

"Hey, yeah," Cora smiled, "I didn't even have to get punched in the face."

She got punched in the face  before they managed to get any information on Rhys. A kid got jumpy at the first place they mentioned him the next morning. When Cora went to find out why, he punched her. It didn't mean anything except the little boy's knuckles were hard and pokey as hell. She caught his wrist just before impact but too late to stop him breaking his hand. The boy, maybe 11, swore loudly, crying as Boyd hoisted him up. "Rude," he told him, ignoring the kicking at his chest.

"Naw, I've hit me too," Cora said, wincing. "Not like that though. Let's get him patched up and find out what he's hiding.

The boy put up a decent show of squirming but Boyd managed to ignore it. Erica's club was closest.  They plopped the boy down and Cora set about fixing his hand while Boyd held his shoulders.

"You kick me and you won't like what happens next," Cora warned, taking a knee in front of him. "Let me see your hand."

The boy glared but Cora could out glare Derek Hale. He gave her his hand and winced as she examined it. "Broke your thumb," she said. "Lucky for you I have experience in that. A boy your age ought to know how to throw a punch. Especially if you run around with fucking smugglers."

He swore again. In Chinese, yes, but Cora knew when someone cussed at her. She couldn't remember if Derek spoke Chinese or not but bringing him in would just mean more lectures.

"Tell me about Rhys," she said, still wrapping his swollen hand. "White man, involved in dangerous stuff, probably putting you in danger too. You don't owe him anything."

The boy opened his mouth, his thin lip curling, when the door swung open and Erica entered. His brown eyes popped open. Cora couldn't blame him. Erica had her face on as always, blood red lips and black kohl to emphasize her eyes on stage, but she'd dressed in a painfully short house dress with only a couple buttons holding it together. The black lace of her brassiere peeked out on the milk white curve of her breast. If Cora were not wildly in love with Lydia, if she didn't love Boyd and Erica as a couple as well as individually and, frankly, if she hadn't seen it all before with Erica skipping about on stage, Cora's eyes might have popped out of her head along with the boy's. Erica completed her ensemble with a bright blue boa because she was Erica.

"Why, Vernon," she gasped after kissing Boyd on the cheek. "You should have told me we were entertaining one of the creme de la cream of beacon hills society! I'd have put on something more eye catching."

"You catch plenty, honey," Boyd said, "We picked this gentleman up in Little Tokyo."

"I just adore that part of town," Erica gushed. She stepped away from Boyd to crouch down eye level to the boy. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Wen," said the boy. He blushed a little.

"Well, Mr Wen," Erica said with a brilliant smile, "Do you like chocolate cake?"

Wen nodded, brown eyes wide. "Wonderful!" Erica said, clasping her hands. "I believe we've got a surplus in the kitchen. Let me grab you a slice."

She disappeared with a flourish of her boa. Boyd stepped in front of the door, looking down at Wen. "What about Rhys then?"

The little boy swallowed. "He gives us messages to take around town. I don't read 'em. I don't know anything."

"Where do you take these messages?" Cora asked. "Can you show us? Or write them down?"

"I could write 'em down," Wen said dubiously. "You can't tell nobody though."

"We won't," Boyd promised and handed him a pen and paper.

"Just messages?" Cora asked. The boy wrote out the addresses in neat, slanted writing. "He never gives you packages?"

Wen shook his head. Cora leaned back against the wall and watched him finish. A package would be proof Rhys was smuggling Poppy into Beacon Hills. Yukimura could use it to shut the ring down before it got started. Cora did not like the idea of involving the police but she liked less the idea of hurting an innocent person. Men like Rhys were rarely innocent, especially when they involved kids in their dealings. She didn't want her ass kicked for nothing at least.

"You know the name of any body you deliver to?" She asked.

He shook his head. "I don't ask questions. I'm not stupid."

Cora bristled. "We're not stupid either."

"You're asking questions." Wen said.

"Best way to get answers," Cora snapped.

"Hale, don't fight the eight year old," Boyd said.

"He-" Cora closed her mouth and glared at Boyd's smirk. Erica returned with Wen's cake and a large glass of milk. She charmed the boy effortlessly while Boyd and Cora went over the list of locations. Rhys's correspondence stretched all over the city. She recognized some addresses where she'd fought or bailed Peter out of some jam. Some were closer to Lydia's neighborhood which gave Cora a hungry frightened feeling in her stomach. "We'll need a map," Boyd said and Cora nodded.

They walked Wen back to the edge of Little Tokyo and made the appropriate threats. "I'm not stupid," he said with a sneer at Cora. "I can keep my mouth shut."

Cora watched him disappear into the alleys. She wondered if she should have worn the beta perfume, if that would have made their informant inform faster. Would she be charming like Erica or clever as Allison if she smelled like Laura?Would she have met Lydia if she weren't an alpha? The bottle in her pocket might have weighed a ton.

She put the pheromone on that night, when she and Boyd checked out the first location on Wen's list. The couldn't go in together. No one cared much about an Alpha Bitch, whatever her color, but a white beta woman with a black alpha brought negative attention Boyd was all too used to. "It's worth it to take my wife out dancing," he said, when they parted ways a block from the "teahouse" where Rhys's contact was meant to hang out. "Not so much for a close up of you in a dress."

"Shut up," Cora said, shifting awkwardly in one of the garments Lydia left in her bedroom. The dress felt almost as uncanny as the scent coating her body. Christ, she hadn't worn one since Laura's funeral.

"I'll be in the back if you need me," Boyd said, "but we are meant to be covert so... You know, try not to need me."

"Yeah, yeah, fine," Cora said, steeling herself. She dropped her shoulders and knees, trying to look smaller, less conspicuous. The door was heavy, or at least Cora had to pretend it was. A few patrons looked up when she entered but they looked down again just as quickly. Cora found a table in a dark corner and watched. Boyd slipped in the back, through The servants entrance where he loomed slightly, like a protective shadow. Cora didn't have to wait long before someone noticed her.

The man was unimpressive, dressed in blue robes with short black hair and spectacles. "are you expecting someone, Madam?" He asked in a thick accent.

"More like waiting for someone," Cora said, affecting her best harmless voice. "My brother, Mr. Rhys, sent me."

Spectacles frowned. "Where is the boy?" He asked.

"Ill," said Cora, hoping Wen would be smart enough to stop working for Rhys. She'd need to speak with Yukimura about some kind of protection for the boy.

"Unfortunate," he said. "Allow me to introduce your brother's contact."

He bowed and turned away. Cora watched him head to the back corner and speak to another man who then disappeared up the stairs. Someone brought her a cup of tea and she couldn't muster the guts to ask for sugar.

Moments past like eons before Rhys contact appeared, sitting down across from her. The low light of the tea house made it hard to recognize him but... Yes, Cora realized with a sudden surge of cold. She knew this man.

She had seen him weeks ago at Lahey's with one of the Blake brothers. Lydia recognized the brother and she and Cora high tailed it out of there. What the hell was a pool hustler doing taking messages for an opium dealer?

The young man stared back at her, brow furrowed. "You're Rhys's sister?" He said, not bothering to hide his skepticism.

"Yes," Cora said. She could have said she was the pope for all he believed her. "You're his contact?"

 _Sisters don't talk like that_ Cora shouted in her head _not nice Beta sisters anyway_

The young man clearly thought the same thing. "I take the messages," he said.

There was a long  pause.

"What's the message?"

"He's says it's ready," She said  and blinked like she practiced with Boyd. "He said you'd know what it means," she added off the white boy's look.

It didn't mean anything. She and Boyd just decided that message would be the most likely to get answers. Nice and vague.

"What's ready?" Asked the man who took the messages.

Cora shrugged resisting the urge to bolt. Why did she think she could do this?

"He said you'd know," Cora said again. "I should go."

She stood, dropping a dime for the tea and rushed out before the pool hustler said anything.

Boyd caught her up just outside, breathing hard against a stone wall. "What the hell was that, Hale?"

"That was me fucking choking." Cora said. "Why the hell did I think I could do this? I'm an Alpha bitch, all I'm good for is fighting. I'm not a beta, I can't influence people unless I'm bashing their face in."

Boyd snorted. "Yeah, that's why I'm following you around Beacon Hills' dens of iniquity, because of your right hook. It’s the first place. We'll get others."

"Yeah, I'll mess those up too," she could hear Peter's voice echo in her head much louder than Boyd's. Useless. Useless little waste of an Alpha.

"C'mon, Hale," Boyd said. "If we're gonna go, let's-"

"Hale," a soft voice spoke behind them. The pool hustler, Rhys's contact's contact, stood in the dim lamp light. He stared at her with huge amber eyes. "You're Cora Hale."

Cora swallowed. _Fuck, I'll have kill this guy._ she thought just before he spoke again.

"You don't know Rhys so why say you do?" His eyes narrowed. "Who sent you?"

"Who sent you?!" She snapped back. Boyd covered his face with his hand and mumbled something that sounded like her name. She pressed on, pushing into the beta's space with all her alpha menace. She could do this at least. "We know about the poppy, what does Rhys have?"

"Poppy?" He shook his head, almost incredulously. "You don't want Rhys. You- come with me."

"Why?" Cora demanded.

"Because it's stupid to talk about this shit in the middle of the street." The Pool Hustler said. Fair point. Cora really wanted to punch him for it.

"C'mon!" The man said irritably. "I want to help you and even if I didn't your Alpha could easily rip my head off!"

Indignation burst through her body. "He's not my Alpha, he's-"

"Don't worry about it," Boyd said, gently pulling her off the pool hustler. "Name's Boyd."

"Stiles," said Stiles.

"Why do you want to help us?" Cora asked.

Stiles flinched, just barely missing a step in the pavement. "Doesn't matter," he said quickly., quiet enough that Cora barely heard him. "You need all the help you can get."

Cora glanced at Boyd who nodded.  She scowled. "Fine but if you try to betray us-"

"You'll tear my throat out?" Stiles said. "Yeah, understood. Will you come on?"

They followed Stiles through Little Tokyo, ducking in and out of alleys and side streets. Stiles kept clear of the street lights until they were back in the whiter part of town. He lead them into Lahey's and picked a table in the corner. "Give me something strong, Isaac," he instructed Camden Lahey's jumpy youngest son, "and get me a lot of it."

He nodded and glanced to Boyd and Cora. "Nothing for us," Boyd said. Cora nodded and Isaac scurried away. The skinny Beta had never spoken two words to her.

Stiles downed his drink the moment Isaac set it down. "Well?" Cora prompted, once he'd finished. "Whatcha got?"

"First of all, fuck Rhys," Stiles said. "He's just a contact at the army base. Right now he just watches the ports, later maybe he'll distribute to the soldiers. More likely he'll end up shot or buried in the desert since dumb ass got noticed by-" he glanced Boyd and Cora up and down, "not the cops surely."

"Not the cops," Boyd agreed.

"Who then, Yukimura?" Stiles asked, leaning forward.

"You know we'd be idiots to tell you," Boyd said.

"Relax, I'm not trying for a cut of your paycheck," Stiles took another swig of whatever Isaac brought him. "I bet it is. She's the only one Nō gets nervous about."

"Who is Nō?" Cora demanded.

Stiles watch her, unblinking, unnervingly. He shook himself and took another drink.

"Nō is the brains of the whole operation. He'e the one you should be after, not Rhys. Get Nö and you fuck up the whole operation."

"And you'll give us Nō?" Boyd asked. Stiles nodded. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," the beta agreed.

"Why?" Cora demanded.

He blinked at her and then grinned . "Because I'm bored. Nō ain't exactly my friend-"

"Neither are we."

Stiles broke into a wide, fake grin, his arms spread wide. "We could be! I like you guys! Boyd's great! You're... Honest..."

 _More than I can say for you, buddy,_ Cora thought. They talked for a while longer. Stiles told them more than they'd found out in a week of searching. Nō was the brains of the operation. He had a backer, whom Stiles had never met but thought he probably could. Cora did not bother asking why again until she was alone with Boyd.

"It just feels a little convenient, doesn't it? He just shows up randomly-"

"Hardly random since we were there looking for information," Boyd said.

"And he just sells his boss down the river because what-"

"He heard your name."

"You noticed it too?" She watched him as best as she was able. The dim city lights made her friend's expression difficult to read but Boyd wasn't exactly obvious in the bright light of day. He gave a long sigh and scratched the back of his neck.

"He's hiding something," Cora said.

"So are we. We need him, Cora. He's a guy on the inside. He can't get us on the inside."

"You're right," Cora couldn't help the petulant face she made. She didn't try. Stiles would do whatever he did for whatever reason he did it. If it came to blows, Cora could handle blows. She hoped she could handle whatever came next as well.

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

Lydia's heat hit her mid-week. She didn't know if it was the fight and subsequent make up with Cora, or her body spoiled by so many heats with her mate. Maybe it was just bad luck. Either way, the urge to breed hit her heard and fast. She woke on Tuesday covered in slick and by the evening, the fever had confined her to her bed with Allison gently wiping her forehead with a damp towel.

"You don't have to be here," Lydia said, her face buried in the folds on Allison's skirts.

"I do and I'm happy to," said her best friend in the world.

"Better than leaving you to your father's devices."

"Mmm," Lydia agreed. The memory of her earlier heats with nothing more than lectures on chastity and an omegas place to help through them left a bitter taste in her mouth. "If I didn't have Cora, Allison dear, I would be very put out with you for having Scott."

"I love you too, dear," Allison cooed, playing with the curl of red that fell down by Lydia's cheek. "Would you like me to read to you?"

"Later," Lydia said. She snuggled in closer, breathing in the comforting beta pheromones. 

"Later," Allison agreed, petting her hair. Lydia groaned softly. She wanted her mate to come and take care of her. She wanted to come just on her own but then Allison would have to leave and her father would send in someone worse. Where was Cora? If Cora were here, none of it would matter because Cora would be here. She could be Lydia's Alpha and keep her close and protected forever.

Lydia fell into restless sleep. Perhaps the heat had fried her mind and really only a few seconds passed before her father had burst shouting through the door. 

"What?" She asked but the pounding in her head was too great to understand what anyone was saying. Her father was shouting still and Lydia recognized her name. Allison said it next in that calming logical tone of hers but Mr. Martin shouted her down. Lydia made a weak protest as her father yanked her roughly out of Allison's arms, forcing her to stand.

"Do you deny it, Lydia?!" He bellowed. He might have been holding her up for as weak as she felt. "Can you deny it?!"

"What?" Lydia asked stupidly.

"She's delirious!" Allison cried. She leaped up, taking Lydia's shoulder, holding her even as Harold Martin shook his daughter like a rag doll. "You can't-"

"Quiet!" Mr. Martin roared, his eyes flashing red. "This is your influence! You're the cause of my daughter turning to sin!" 

 _He knows,_ Lydia thought woozily. _How in god's name does he know?_

"Father," she said, her throat too dry for much voice, "Father, please-"

"If I may, sir," One of the Blake twins stepped forward. Lydia hadn't even realized he was there. "Miss Martin has clearly been hoodwinked somehow but there's no lasting damage, not from an Alpha Bitch."

"Shut up," Lydia said with all the force of a new born kitten. 

"My brother isn't unreasonable. With all this suffrage nonsense and omega rights, my family understands the difficulties of controlling an Omega girl of Lydia's spirits. We won't break off the match, so long as immediate steps are taken to rectify the situation."

"No," Lydia said again. No one listened. 

Her father nodded, still bright red. "Yes." He said, his grip tightening on Lydia's shoulders. "Immediate steps."

"Her heat is an ideal opportunity," Ethan Blake said with a small sniff. "The wedding will come later but the claim must be made tonight-"

"No!" Lydia said but she was drowned out by Allison's protest. 

"You can't be serious! You can't mate Lydia against her will! It's monstrous!"

"Be quiet, you stupid girl!" For a moment Lydia thought her father would strike Allison but he only tightened his bruising grip on Lydia.

"It's quite within the law, Mr. Martin." Blake said, "An omega in heat inevitably calls for an alpha. Aiden will answer that call when Miss Martin makes it."

"Never," Lydia said. She turned her had to glare as fully as possible at Ethan Blake. How convenient that the two people she hated most had the same stupid face. He smiled at her and Lydia made a small fist. She would have to make Cora teach her how to throw a punch, right after they fucked for three days straight. 

"Mr. Martin, this is wrong!" Allison said, waking Lydia from that brief intoxicating dream of her mate. "You can't force your own daughter-"

"Be silent!" Lydia's father roared, bits if spit landing on her face. "I've telephoned your father. Argent may do with you as he likes but you are no longer welcome in this house and you will stay away from my daughter!"

"No!" Lydia and Allison spoke as one. 

  
Harold Martin opened his mouth to shout again but the low voice of Allison's father spoke instead. Lydia turned as best as she could to see Mr. Argent standing in the door. 

"Allison," he said, in a low but even voice.

"Father-” Allison started to argue but cut off when Lydia caught her eye. She couldn't speak, not with Blake and her father there and the heat threatening to melt her insides. They'd go after Cora next, if they hadn't already. Her mate could be in a jail cell at that very moment and Lydia could do nothing but beg Allison to warn her. 

Allison at least seemed to understand without words. She nodded slightly, imperceptibly to anyone but Lydia, then leveled a glare to Harold Martin. "This is monstrous," she said. She turned on her heel and followed her father from the room.

  
Once the Argents had gone, Harold released his grip on his daughter. Lydia fell back onto the fainting couch. She should have got up and run, defended herself, but the heat made her woozy and weak. Her father ran his finger over the few hairs on her head. He didn't look at her.

"How does this work?"

Ethan Blake nodded solemnly. "The mating must occur as soon as possible. Fortunately, Lydia's heat will overcome whatever modern sensibilities she might cling to. She will call for an Alpha soon and any alpha who answers will be legally considered her mate. Aiden will, of course, answer that call and biology will take over from there."

"A waiting game," her father said.

"Indeed," Ethan nodded. Lydia glared as best she could with the haze rolling in around her eyes. She wanted Cora. She knew she should be fighting, that Cora would have fought, but the heat nearly consumed her. She could barely keep conscious, barely protest as her father pulled her wrist up to the bed post.

***

Lydia remembered heat the first night she met Cora. Not the same fire begging to be quelled by touch that roared even now under her skin but a calmer, pleasant heat on the air. The first true night of summer. The spring blossoms were just beginning to fall making the whole city smell gorgeous even the dingy bars where Lydia and Allison searched out their thrills. 

They'd carried the tradition across the ocean from their boarding school days, sneaking out and seeking adventure where ever possible. They traded off choosing what to do. Allison almost invariably leaned toward nature, wandering the preserve around her family's country property, or perhaps a political meeting. Three hour tramps marred somewhat Lydia's appreciation of serene lakes and mountains but the arguments at political meeting were always entertaining. She was a student of humanity. Lydia always want to go downtown, anywhere she wasn't allowed. She loved the sheer number of people, rough alphas and betas pushing together on the sidewalk, people talking in shouts, women laughing loud and long without any care of what people would think.

Lydia knew it was dangerous. She knew why Allison insisted on accompanying her even when she'd rather had stayed in. Lydia even cared, to a certain extent, that it was dangerous. She bristled at the looks she got from Alphas, snarled at the comments from more brazen men, wrinkled her nose at the filth on the sidewalks and in the bars, but it wasn't enough to keep her away or to stop her pushing in ever deeper.

The prize fights were the best. Lydia wasn't particularly proud of herself: a modern, intelligent Omega woman thrilling to see two Alphas brawling like animals. Most of the rhetoric about Alphas and Omegas was pure bunk but the sight of two sweaty muscled Alphas beating and clawing each other awoke something primal in her. The fantasy of two Alphas fighting over her without the awful reality of having to become some brute's mate.

The Alpha woman- the Alpha Bitch as the barman introduced her- awoke something altogether new in Lydia's breast. She was beautiful, certainly, but a different kind of beauty than Lydia'd ever seen. There was nothing soft about this woman, nothing delicate. She radiated power in the ring, encouraging the jeers with a wide grin, waving her arms as if inviting the whole bar to take her on. She wasn't particularly masculine though, with her long brown hair pulled back from her eyes and her breasts all but exposed it the tight shirt. Lydia's parents would have called her a scandal for the trousers alone. With her bare shoulders, the visible curve of her breast, she was pornographic.

She always won.

Allison didn't share Lydia's obsession. "She can fight well enough," she said with the air of one who'd actually been in a fight. "Sloppy form but that's the point, isn't it? But when have you ever cared for an alpha?"

Never. No Alpha had ever fascinated Lydia like Cora but every Alpha she'd ever met was a man.

She watched Cora for three weeks before building up the courage to talk to her. She didn’t tell Allison of her plan, nor even where she was going that night. She just showed up at the speakeasy that boasted the Alpha Bitch most often and ignored the voice in her head warning her not to risk so much for one woman, however much Lydia might think of her.

Instead she watched Cora fight, watched her win and drink with her friends for a good half hour before she finally went to the bar for a new round. Only then could Lydia force herself to approach.

Cora raised as eyebrow as Lydia leaned against the bar. “Left your chaperone behind tonight?”

Lydia nodded. Allison might not approve of her chatting up strange Alphas or worse, she might witness Lydia get rejected.

“Not the smartest move, Omega, coming to an illegal booze hall full of drunk alphas,” she sniffed, “’Specially when you’re unmated.”

Lydia bristled. “I can handle myself.”

“I’m sure you can.” Cora took a swig of beer and licked the foam from her lips. “That beta girl… she ever handled you?”

Lydia knew what she was implying. If anyone else had hinted at such… impropriety, Lydia would have slapped them but when Cora said it, there was a hint of jealousy in her voice. It made Lydia feel warm and pleased with herself.  “No.” She said, with a smile.

“Criminal,” Cora smiled back. “You want a drink?”

Lydia nodded and Cora leaned over to pour another beer from the tap. “I’m Cora,” She said. “Cora Hale.”

 “I know.” Lydia said. She never gave her own name when she snuck out. She couldn’t risk the tale of a red haired omega named Lydia wandering back to her father from some talkative booze hound.

“I know you know.” Cora leaned in closer, so close Lydia could smell her clear as day even in the crowded bar. “I’ve seen you come in here going on two months now.”

“You noticed?” God but she smelled good.

“A girl like you? Everybody notices.” Cora’s fingers traced over Lydia wrist, surprisingly gentle. Dark eyes flashed up to Lydia’s, as if to make sure she wasn’t offended. Lydia ran her tongue across her lips. Her heart pounded as Cora spoke. “Everybody wonders what you’re doing here, who you’re with and why… and now you’re here, talkin’ to me.”

Lydia smiled. “Here I am.”

“Why?” Cora tilted her head to examine Lydia.

“You fight very well,” Lydia said.

“You like that?”

“Very much.”

“I could show you how, if you like?” Cora said, sliding her hand up Lydia’s arm.

“When?” Lydia thought she should have waited, drawn it out a little longer so not to seem too eager.

“Now, if you want.” Cora said. She glanced carefully around the bar and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Get a little room upstairs? Have a little fun.”

Lydia nodded. All the noise in the bar vanished as Cora took her hand and led her to a small back staircase up into the boarding house above the house and slipped a bloodstained bill to a pimply boy who nodded and disappeared, leaving them alone in the small bedroom.

 Cora kissed her first. “You ever done this before, ‘mega girl?”

“Once or twice,” Lydia said, “Never with an alpha.”

Cora smiled, all teeth. “I’m honored.” They kissed again. This time, Lydia could react. She edged her fingers into Cora’s hair, thick and dirty from the fight, and led her back towards the bed. They fell together, kissing. Lydia sat on the bed while the alpha slide down her body to take her place on the floor.

She pushed Lydia’s skirt up over her thighs, maintaining perfect eye contact as she fiddled with the omega’s under garments. Lydia’s breath caught, staring into those gorgeous brown eyes, already flecked with a hint of alpha red.

Cora paused, misinterpreting awe for apprehension. “You sure about this?” she asked, want just barely creeping into the edge of her voice.

“Yes,” Lydia said, “Please, Alpha.”

Cora’s eyes glowed red. “Don’t have to ask twice, Omega.” She pressed a hard kiss into Lydia’s thigh and leaned in between her legs.

Lydia meant to point out that she had already asked twice but then Cora was inside her. Her tongue flicked in and out, tentatively at first but then eagerly pressing into the warm, needy flesh. Lydia bucked against her, wrapping her legs around her shoulders trying to pull her in closer.

She had to bite down on her lip to keep from crying out. She’d been eaten out before but god, never like this. The girls at boarding school were always so timid, almost ashamed to be with her like this. Cora knew exactly what she was doing and, what’s more, she relished it. Cora wouldn’t cry or apologize after it was over, wouldn’t blather on about sin. She’d ask to go again.

 _Alpha,_ Lydia thought and then, as Cora’s efforts finally came to blissful fruition, the hot surge of cum and pleasure, the word slipped out over her lips. “Alpha! Alpha… Cora…”

She felt Cora smile between her thighs. “You like that, Omega girl?”

“Lydia,” she wanted it hear those lips, damn the consequences. “My name is Lydia.”

“Lydia,” Cora whispered, her breath warm and sweet on the Omega’s pussy, still wet and aching from orgasm. “Lydia.”

Then she pushed for a second round.

***

“Cora,” she strained uselessly against her bonds. She was so hot, so tired and empty. Where was her mate? Why wasn’t she there, filling Lydia as she always had. “Cora, please…”

She was vaguely aware of three sets of eyes watching her. Alphas, all of them, but each useless to her. She needed Cora, or at least freedom from these wretched ropes.

“It’s been hours,” her father said, worried, “Perhaps we should-”

“If you coddle her now you’ll lose her forever.” Another cut in. “Wait.”

“Father,” Lydia begged softly, “Let me go. Please, Father.”

If she could just get her hands free, she could stave it off, the burning emptiness inside her. She’d done it before; she could do it again. If she could only calm the heat long enough, she could find her mate and transform suffering to salvation.

“Accept your place,” another stranger growled, his voice harsher than the other. “Accept your alpha.”

No. An alpha wouldn’t do, couldn’t help her any more. She needed her Alpha. She needed Cora.

***

She found Cora alone at the bar, a quarter bottle of whiskey next to her. Usually she had friends she would abandon when Lydia visited but tonight she drank by herself. She didn’t look up when Lydia took her hand.

“My sister’s dead,” Cora said in a soft far away voice.

“I’m sorry,” Lydia said squeezing gently. “Cora, I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t-” her voice faltered and she looked at Lydia without speaking. Red circled her pupils but that was grief. Cora’s eyes themselves were still brown, beautiful even in mourning. “I’m no good to you tonight,” she said, allowing the gruff act she displayed in the ring to creep into her voice. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Lydia said. “You don’t have to- I wanted to see you. I always want to see you,” she swallowed, suddenly feeling more exposed than she ever had, even naked in Cora’s bed. “Do you want me to- can I do anything for you?”

Cora said nothing for a long time. Lydia pressed a soft kiss to her temple and stepped back. “I’ll see you-”

“Stay,” Cora whispered in a ragged voice. She looked at Lydia for a long, silent moment, with tears in her eyes. “Stay?”

“Of course,” Lydia said. She slipped into the stool next to Cora. The alpha rested her head on Lydia’s shoulder and breathed in deep.

***

“You’re being ridiculous,” another omega sat by her bedside. Lydia said nothing. Her voice hurt from calling so often for her mate, begging to be set free. Even if she could speak, this woman did not deserve her words. Lydia had no bond to this woman, unless it was the rope that kept her in torment.

“In the old days, we weren’t even granted the illusion of choice.” Mrs. Blake said irritably. “Men take, it’s what they do. Alphas more than anyone. I won’t lie, though you’ve done nothing to earn such courtesy. Aiden won’t be gentle, even if you hadn’t kept him waiting, and you won’t enjoy it. He’d give you relief though. An alpha will protect his mate, whatever else he does to them. You are his mate, whether you accept it or not. You might as well. It will happen anyway.”

“No,” Lydia said, turning her face into the pillow. Better to let the flames consume her than allow Aiden Blake. Her old heat nurse, before Allison took over, had the same stories. She rambled on about the inevitability of Alpha and Omega, man and woman, how Omegas were born empty, waiting to be filled by a mate. An empty jar, she said, pointless without something inside it.

She never talked about women like Cora, strong and separate until her cunt closed around Lydia’s fingers. She never told about the joy of acceptance over invasion, to be held inside another woman, not a half become whole but two complete people, together.

“Cora,” she said again, ignoring the pain and Mrs. Blake’s scoff of derision. Better to die as herself than live that lie. “Cora.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnngggssttt (with fluff in middle)
> 
> for more on the death of Laura Hale read Shrapnel.
> 
> Also, please comment. Thanks!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Assault, blantent homophobia and sexism,  
> But also resolution ish!

Cora woke to an awful rapping at the front door. Actually, woke would imply that she slept at all. She had not. Despite a very late evening and early morning of shadowing Nō through Little Tokyo, the best she could manage was a kind of angry unconsciousness, not at all restful. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she staggered to the door.

“Wha-?” she barely had time to form a syllable before Allison Argent pushed her way past the door and into the living room.

“Lydia’s in trouble. Her father knows about you and he’s called the police.”

Cora bolted instantly to consciousness, the exhaustion of the night and morning evaporated. “What happened? Is Lydia alright?”

Allison glanced over her shoulder. “We should go inside,” she said in a hard, nervous voice.

Cora stepped back. Allison came in, followed by beta man Cora didn’t recognize and… Stiles.

Cora’s brain suddenly sizzled like bacon on a pan. Why the hell was Stiles here? What did he have to do with Lydia? Cora had been so careful to keep her mate separate from their investigation into the Beacon Hills opium trade. She had learned terrible things about the man calling himself Nōgitsune, dark fox according to Kira Yukimura, in the last few weeks. There were a lot worse than just importing opium. If he knew she was snooping, if he knew who she was, he’d know about Lydia- he’d go after her. They had learned things about that man that made Cora’s blood run cold-

“No, it’s nothing to do with them,” Stiles said quickly, and Cora only just realized she was speaking aloud. “I just- I know Allison.”

He wasn’t lying but he’d skipped over a large part of the truth. Cora didn’t have time to deal with that though. She turned back to Allison.

“What happened?”

“Aiden Blake,” Allison said, “or that damn twin of his. They told Mr. Martin about you and he’s got her tied up, in heat,”

Cora saw red, only red. “Where?” she demanded in a growl.

“At the house-“ Cora pushed passed her to the door. She’d kill them all. Martin, The Damn Blakes, Nōgitsune, anyone who didn’t get out of her way fast enough. She’d rip them apart with her bare hands.

“He’s called the police. You need to get out of the city,” Allison said, no doubt on Lydia’s orders. She would worry about Cora, even as those bastards-

Cora flung open the door as something crashed on the floor behind her. _Fucking cops,_ Cora snarled. She’d kill them too, if they made her, to get to Lydia.

It was only Derek, woken by Cora’s shouting no doubt. He looked like he was having another attack, pale and unsteady like when he first got back to Beacon Hills.

 _Fuck,_ the sight of him was a drop of rain on the fire of her rage. The small whiff of steam forced her to think a little. She couldn’t kill cops and save Lydia. She needed to stay out of prison for her mate as well as her brother. However, she wasn’t leaving Lydia to the mercy of her father and Aiden Blake for anyone. She’d have to explain at least.

Then Stiles sprinted across the living room, head long into Derek. He was talking- no, crying. Stiles sobbed and babbled, almost incoherently, but Cora caught the phrase: “I thought you were dead,” and Derek’s name repeating continuously.

“That’s Derek?” The other beta spoke for the first time in a soft, incredulous voice. “Derek Hale?”

“Yeah,” over powered “and who are you?” in of Cora’s mouth, just barely halting the urge to leave and find Lydia immediately.

“Scott?” Allison asked, touching the other Beta’s arm.

 _One question answered._ Cora thought, her feet itching for the back door.

“That’s Stiles’ mate,” Scott said. “We thought he was dead.”

Cora looked back at her brother. Derek had his arm around Stiles, his fingers in his hair. He whispered something to the younger man, something Cora couldn’t understand. She’d never seen him like that. Confused as she was, Cora could see Scott was right. Stiles was Derek’s mate.

Derek’s mate had returned from the dead but Lydia was in danger. Nothing else would overshadow that. Cora turned back to the door.

Then the police showed up.

***

Cora didn’t come. She called and called and still Cora didn’t come.

Lydia was dying. Everything ached. Her arms pricked and protested at their forced stillness, except her wrists which burned like fire. Worse of all, she was empty, hollow and frail like she would disappear in a gust of wind.

And Cora didn’t come.

She could hear voices, dimly through the pain and haze of the heat. Her father and two other men talking to each other but also her mother’s cold soprano at her bedside.

“You stupid girl,” she said in a hiss. “You stupid, disgusting girl, do you know what you’ve done? You’ve ruined us, you stupid whore! You’re an abomination!”

Lydia sobbed though there were no more tears left in her. She turned away as much as she could, using the last inch of physical control she had to get away from that voice.

“You fix this!” her mother said. “You fix this now!”

Lydia could only whimper, a soft cry of a name answered only by a hard slap across her face.

Cora didn’t come.

***

Cora paced around the small cell. She knew she was injured and she would likely feel those injuries someday but right now Lydia was in pain. Lydia was in danger and these pricks had locked Cora in a cell. They were wasting time, Lydia’s time, and Cora was helpless to prevent it.

“Cora, sit down,” they’d allowed Derek to share a cell, reasoning that the Alpha bitch, no matter how crazed, wouldn’t attack her crippled brother. “You’re just feeding their suspicions.”

She might prove them wrong about that yet. Cora kept pacing. “I should’ve killed them,” she muttered.

“We don’t kill cops,” Derek said and Cora couldn’t quite tell who he was talking about. Once the gumshoes showed up, Derek had lost it almost as much as his sister. After he got back from the dead, Derek couldn’t so much as swat a fly but he’d tried to take on three cops once they started beating his sister. He might have stopped them from killing her but Cora was still a little too pissed off and worried to fit in much gratitude though. They both wound up in the paddy wagon in the end, Derek’s one arm cuffed to the barred windows.

“Not them,” Cora said. “Fucking Blakes. The minute they started sniffing around Lydia, I should’ve-”

“Stop it.” Derek said.

“She’s hurt, Derek!” Cora said in harsh whisper. “She’s in heat! She hasn’t gone through a heat alone in over a year and if they-” bile rose in her throat just saying it, “if they _rape_ her now, she’s stuck with them! She’ll be mated to that fucking monster and I can’t help her!”

The last few words came in ragged gasps. Cora hated herself, her useless rage, impotent and still exploding inside her. She couldn’t help Lydia, her mate, the one person she should have protected above all others, because of one stupid accident of biology. One little stick of flesh between her legs and Cora could have married Lydia, kept her safe. One accident of nature and the cops and the Martins and the bastard Blakes were right. Cora had raped Lydia hundreds of times because consent was legally impossible with an alpha woman.

“Cora,” Derek nodded up to the door of their cell. Stiles, pale but determined, strode toward them, followed by the beta Scott and a man of about forty with a bright brass Sheriff’s badge. Derek stood next to Cora, eyes never moving from his long lost mate.

 _Another uncomfortable conversation to have,_ Cora thought, _why did you tell me he was dead?_

“Are you hurt?” Stiles asked in a whisper, the moment he reached the bars.

“We’re alright,” Derek answered, though Cora was certain Stiles hadn’t asked about her. They stared at each other but didn’t say anything more as the Sheriff and Scott approached.

“Miss Hale, Mr. Hale,” The Sheriff said, looking down at a clip board. “You’re being released into custody.”

“Whose custody?” Cora asked, though she didn’t exactly care. She’d give anybody the slip to get to Lydia in time.

“Mine, dear,” A wrinkled woman leaned heavily on a cane and smiled at her. Cora hadn’t noticed her before but she recognized the bright red hair, even with the streaks of silver interspaced between strands.

“You’re-”

“Lorraine DeBaugh Martin,” Lydia’s grandmother said. “Very pleased to make your acquaintance but time is of the essence. Sheriff, if you please-”

The Sheriff nodded and unlocked the cell door. He stepped inside to remove Cora’s manacles. “You’ll be required to return some time in the next week for paper work,” he spoke to Cora but his blue eyes rested on Derek, taking him in from top to bottom. “Do not make us come find you. Mr. Hale?”

“Sir?” Derek sounded like he was fifteen, being shouted at by their father.

“You are also being released,” The Sheriff’s voice was calm, professional, but an ominous _for now_ hung in the air. “Come back in a week.”

“Yes, sir.”

Once the handcuffs were off, Cora followed Lorraine DeBaugh Martin out of the station, much faster that the old woman’s cane seemed to suggest. “I’ve a coach waiting,” she said, “it won’t accommodate all of you,”

“Go,” Derek said to Cora, as if she had any intention of waiting. Stiles hadn’t embraced him again but the skinny beta stood close enough that their sides seemed magnetized. “We’ll catch up.”

Allison was waiting in the cab next to a nervous looking black woman. “Oh thank god,” she said as they climbed in and Lorraine kissed the other woman on the cheek. “I wasn’t sure it’d work.”

Lorraine struck the side of the carriage with her cane and they took off at a trot. She settled down beside her mate and took her hand. “It didn’t,” she said, with a small trace of bitterness, “The Sheriff seems to be a man of true integrity and refused my bribe. I’ve really no idea what to do with that information.”

“He’s Stiles’ father,” Allison said, “I suspect that clinched it.”

Cora had questions but only one mattered. “I need to get to Lydia. She’s-”

“Miss Argent informed me that my granddaughter wished for her mate to leave the city and secure her own freedom,” Lorraine cut her off, “I’m pleased to see you ignoring that ludicrous suggestion, dear.”

Cora nodded, panic seeping back below the surface. “Can this thing go faster?”

Lorraine stuck her cane out the window and gave another hard whack. The coach moved faster but never fast enough until they pulled in front of the Martin town house.

Cora stepped onto the cobble stones before the horses stopped. She’d never actually been this close to Lydia’s house before. Stealth was pointless now. Cora kicked in the door and ran inside. The few noises of alarm and protest did nothing to stop her. She could smell Lydia’s heat the moment she entered. It only grew stronger as Cora scaled the staircase, shouting Lydia’s name.

Lydia looked up wearily as Cora stepped into the room, the door rattling on its hinges. “Cora,” she said, in a soft shaky voice, dripping with need. Cora saw red.

They’d tied her to the bed. They had tied her, feverish and half out of her mind with heat, to her bed and watched as she suffered. Three alphas stood around watching Lydia suffer but only two were threats.

No, not threats. They were inconveniences. Cora could toss them aside easily to get to Lydia.

They’d frozen when she entered but now they came at her. Cora fought without finesse or even passion. There was no crowd to rile up, no money to be made by drawing it out or taunting them. The fight felt like a chore almost. Sure, she’d kill them eventually. They’d burn for what they’d done, she would see to that, but taking the time to purposefully tear them apart only meant another few seconds away from Lydia. So Cora pushed them aside and climbed up onto her mate.

“Lydia,” Violets over powered her as Cora slide up her mate. “I’m here, it’s alright. I’m here, Lydia.”

Lydia didn’t seem capable of much more than Cora’s name over and over.

“Get it off! Get it out!” Someone shouted pointlessly behind them and Cora snarled at a hand on her shoulder. She fought, claws meeting flesh, and rage breaking through her tiny body. How dare they? How dare they touch her? How dare they presume to deny Cora her mate when Lydia called for her?

“Enough!” A hard shout cracked through the little bedroom. Cora looked back to see Lorraine DeBaugh Martin standing in the door, flanked by Stiles and Derek, the others entering behind her. Everyone stopped for a second, except Lydia who whimpered and strained against her bonds to touch Cora as much as she could.

“M-mother?” the same person who referred to Cora as “it”, Lydia’s father apparently, broke the silence with a sputter.

“Enough of this, Harold.” She said. “You will cease this unconscionable display immediately. I am ashamed of you!”

“You can’t be serious, Mother, this-“

“You may very well have lost your daughter today, Harold,” Lorraine snapped, “Continue and you will lose your mother as well, I promise you.”

“Mr. Martin-” Another voice, one of the Alpha twins, cut in. Cora lowered herself protectively over Lydia. “You must regain control-”

“Harold,” Lorraine spoke in a softer voice, “You know this is wrong. This is beastly.”

Harold Martin glanced back between his daughter and his mother. Cora tensed, ready to fight again if she had to, but then he nodded, swallowing hard.

“You can’t be serious!” The other twin sneered. Cora saw he was holding his arm gingerly, wincing when he moved. Good, she would gladly finished the job.

“Go,” Harold Martin said in a weak voice.

“Very well,” said the first twin like it was a threat. “Aiden.”

“She’s mine, Ethan,” Aiden spat.

“Go now.” Derek spoke in a voice so low that Cora could hardly hear it.

No one else said anything but Cora heard footsteps fade away from the bed. She looked back at Lydia and kissed her softly. “It’s alright,” she whispered. “It’s alright.”

“Please,” Lydia murmured. “Please, Cora.”

Cora nodded and lifted herself up just barely. “If you don’t want to see,” she said without moving her eyes from Lydia, “you should leave now.”

She kissed Lydia again and bit down hard on her collar bone. She could mark her now, show anyone and everyone that Lydia Martin was claimed and protected. Steam seemed to rise off the omega’s skin as she moaned under Cora’s teeth, pleasure finally replacing need.

Reenergized, Lydia strained to get closer and suddenly her fingers dug hard into Cora’s back. Cora glanced to the side and saw Allison quickly retreating with a small length of rope in her hands. Lydia’s other hand broke free to latch onto Cora’s back. She wrapped her newly freed legs around Cora’s waist and lifted herself against her alpha.

Dimly aware of the door closing behind them, Cora pushed Lydia back down on the bed. “Let me,” she said, an offer and a prayer. She pushed Lydia’s skirt up over her waist and slide down between her legs. “Let me, Lydia.”

“Cora, please,” Lydia whispered. It was all she was capable of saying.

She didn’t need to ask again, though she did over and over. Cora pressed her lips into Lydia’s soaking cunt, eagerly drinking her in. Lydia shivered at the touch. She gave a small cry as Cora delved deeper. Her freed hands pushed Cora in closer.

“Mate,” she groaned and wrapped her legs around Cora’s shoulders, “My mate. My mate. My mate,” again and again. Cora would never tire of hearing it.

Lydia screamed when she came, a warm wave of heat filling Cora’s mouth. She screamed Cora’s name. Cora reached up and gripped her ass, pulling her somehow closer. They could never be close enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For more Sterek backstory, read Shrapnel, also updated today.  
> Would anyone be interested in side anecdotes from Allison about how she got everything in order? I wrote a couple but they don't quite work with the established POVs for this tale.  
> As always reviews are appriciated. Extra appriciated as non fan fic life is being terrible right now.


	15. Chapter 15

 

Lydia came back to herself in a slow hazy. Cora lay on top of her, protectively draped over every inch of her body. Her fingers still rested inside Lydia’s body, twitching pleasantly against her.

The room was cold. Cora had made quick work of ripping off Lydia’s flimsy heat dress and discarding her undergarments. She had not bothered to pull the blankets or sheets over them. Given the heat soaked memories slowly rising to the surface of Lydia’s mind, perhaps she hadn’t had the energy. A few tatters of shirt stuck to Cora’s shoulders but beyond that Lydia’s mate was naked. She took a moment to admire the view before kissing Cora on the crick of her neck.

“Lydia,” Cora whispered, kissing her back before she opened her eyes. Her fingers moved again, purposefully. “It’salright,” she murmured. “’m here.”

“I know,” Lydia said and she could never have explained how grateful she was for that fact.

Cora’s eyes cracked open. “You good?”

Lydia nodded. “For now,” she could still feel the heat in her belly, satiated at the moment, but ready to return as needed. “Enough to talk.”

“Thank god,” Cora kissed her forehead, chaste and grateful. “You’re sure? How’re your wrists?”

Well, they hadn’t hurt before she brought them up but Lydia kept it to herself. “At little sore,” she admitted and unwrapped her arms from Cora’s shoulders to look at them. The milk white skin Lydia’s mother always found such pride in had been rubbed red and raw by her father’s ropes. Cora snarled when she saw them, eyes flashing red.

“I’ll kill them,” she growled, “I swear to god I’ll kill them.”

“Shush,” Lydia said, snuggling closer, “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” but she only pressed her lips softly to the throbbing red skin, “I’m sorry.”

“You saved me.” Lydia said. She threaded her fingers through Cora’s hair and pressed their foreheads together. “You saved me.”

Cora shook her head. “I tried. I should have got here soon. I should have known. I shouldn’t’ve let you go, with those bastards sniffing around.”

“Let me? As if you could stop me going anywhere.” She kissed Cora again. “We were as safe as we could be. We didn’t know they’d-”

“I should have.” Cora said. “I’m meant to protect you.”

“You’re meant to be with me,” Lydia said, “and that’s right where you are. Excellent work. Excellent mate.”

“Mmm,” Cora inhaled deeply. “You’re smiling?”

“Oh,” Lydia said, “Just thinking about how you might stop me, in the future.”

Cora smiled wickedly. She climbed back on top of Lydia and flexed her fingers inside her. Lydia arched into her, humming happily. Heats with Cora were lovely but she liked this part best. After the initial, frenzied fucks, after she’d orgasmed a dozen or so times over, her mind came back to her. With the same warm needs, just bubbling below the surface, Lydia could appreciate Cora that much more. The way she moved, the way she touched her, in those moments, was heaven.

They fucked lazily, nipping at the marks they’d made last night, instead of real, marking bites. Cora let Lydia turn her over. She made token noises of concern about her injuries as Lydia kissed between her breasts, giving her the attention due to her mate. Cora kept her hands in Lydia’s hair but made no move to stop her as Lydia licked down her stomach towards the soft, warm wet between her legs.

The dark salty musk of Cora rose up to greet her as she spread her fingers through the dark black pubic hair. She glanced up at her mate, “Is this-? May I?”

Cora brushed her hair away from her face. “You can do whatever you want, baby. I won’t hurt you.”

Lydia smiled. Of course, Cora would never hurt her, not even unintentionally. It had taken her far too long to realize it.

She pushed the curly hair away and licked gently at her mate’s forbidden skin. Cora shivered above her. Her fingers clenched suddenly in Lydia’s hair. She thought for a moment that she’d be thrown away but Cora just held her in place. Lydia licked again, swirling around Cora’s clit, the way Lydia always liked it. Cora gasped, small and breathy. Lydia smiled and licked in deeper.

Cora moaned. Lydia wondered if she were the first person to touch her like this. Cora had had other lovers, Lydia knew that, but had any of them actually taken care of that angry, beautiful woman? Lydia could feel Cora start to tighten. She flicked her tongue back and forth through the narrowing crevice.

She looked up to see Cora had closed her eyes. She bit down on her lip, keeping back her moans and cries. It was the first battle Lydia ever saw her mate losing. The very idea thrilled her. She increased her speed, the intensity of her ministrations, and was gratified at the sounds the escaped.

“Let me hear you, Cora,” she murmured and Cora gave a small, choked cry. “I want to hear you.”

She held out for as long as she could, obstinate like a child. Still, the sounds escaped. Lydia heard the little sighs of pleasure, the soft moans and whispered pleas. She liked it best when Cora said her name in a cross between a prayer and a shout. “Lydia! Lydia, please!” and her cunt tightened around Lydia’s tongue.

It felt strange, the tightening, the lock squeezing around her. It felt strange, yes, like turning the key in a house she’d never slept that was also her home. It felt strange as Cora came, salty sweet taste and that beautiful scent.

“Lydia,” Cora’s voice trembled. Her fingers stroked against Lydia’s hair, tentative, almost frightened. “Are you okay? I didn’t- please-”

Lydia reached up to her. It was awkward, low as she was on Cora’s body. She could reach her hair or even the hands based on the bed. She found her hip though and squeezed, putting all the love, all the possessive instinct and belonging coursing through her body. Cora relaxed into her touch with a low, shuddering sigh.

“I love you,” she said. “I love you so much. I won’t let anyone hurt you again, Lydia, I promise. You won’t spend another night in this house, I swear on my mother’s ashes.

Lydia ran her fingers over the curve of Cora’s skin, trying to comfort. Her mate just kept talking, unable or unwilling to stop the avalanche of words. “You’re so fucking perfect! You’re so goddamn smart and beautiful and I should’ve protected you. I should’ve kept you with me.” Lydia squeezed her ass and Cora just fell, repeated soft declarations of love until the words ran together, indistinguishable from each other.

She didn’t know quite how long they lay like that. Cora’s knot usually took hours to loosen but Lydia never felt tired or put out waiting for her mate to release her. Her legs didn’t fall asleep as she’d expected them too. She didn’t feel numb or bored but perfectly content with Cora’s legs curled protectively around her shoulders.

She stayed inside her mate, even after Cora’s knot untied, idly licking her and enjoying the shake of her reactions. She ceased finally, when Cora told her to, voice shaking.

“Alright?” Lydia asked with her elbows of the bed, watching her mate.

Cora nodded. “Stop,” she said as Lydia went to return to her task. “You keep that up and you’ll get caught again.”

“I don’t think it counts as caught if I’m baiting you,” Lydia said as she slid up next to Cora on the bed. “An alpha has needs, doesn’t she?”

Cora hugged her tight. “I need to get you home. I’ll take care of you again at home. I don’t wanna risk those assholes coming back.”

Lydia didn’t have to ask which assholes. The heat hazed memories had returned and she shuddered to imagine what would have happened if Cora’d been delayed just a little longer. “You’re right.” She said, returning Cora’s hug.

Cora stroked her hair and sat up. Lydia rose as well, trying to find some clothing that wasn’t absolutely destroyed. She selected a plain dress from her closet and searched for something suitable for Cora.

“Don’t make a face,” she said, pressing it into her arms. “You can change into your clothes when we get home. A half hour in a dress won’t kill you.”

“It might,” Cora said, pulling the little black number over her slim body without benefit of underwear.

Lydia sighed. “You’d be so stylish with a bob.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “Take anything you can’t live without. I don’t know if we’ll be back here soon.”

Lydia nodded. She took the Russian sable coat from her closet and began to fill the pockets with every piece of jewelry and every pilfered bit of pocket money she’d hidden away. Her math books were still under lock and key in the library but she had _The Omega’s Place_ from beneath the floor boards and anything else she could get from the library. She put a few more clothes, sensible, every day dresses and skirts, into an old traveling case, along with a few photographs of her and Allison in their school days. Her fingers grazed the gold frame of her parents wedding photo. Lydia drew her fingers back, remembering her father shouting in her face. She snapped the suit case shut and turned to see Cora watching her. The Alpha didn’t say anthing.

“Let’s go.” Lydia said.

“Do you want me to carry anything?” Cora asked.

Lydia thought for a moment. She went to her closet and took out the largest hat box she could find. She turned it over, letting the ugly hat fall to the floor and handed the empty box to Cora. “You might fill this with shoes. Practical ones, if you please.”

“Yes, Miss Lydia, just as you say,” Cora gave a sarcastic little curtsy. She did gather the shoes though and in a few minutes they were ready.  Lydia took a final survey of the room that had housed most of her childhood but felt very little. It wasn’t home, hadn’t been for a very long time.

Derek was waiting for them in the hallway. Lydia didn’t precisely remember him aiding in her rescue but she’d known he was in the house in the vague, half way she could remember which equation to use but not how it fit into the problem. She certainly didn’t recall the very pink Beta man standing next to him or the two of them smelling quite so-

Cora caught on more bluntly. “Did you-“ but she thought better of it with a glare. “We should go.”

“Agreed,” said Derek. He looked his sister up and down. “Are you wearing a dress?”

“Shut up.” Lydia wanted to laugh but she settled for hugging Cora and nuzzling her neck.

“C’mon,” she reminded Cora. The sooner they got out of the house, the sooner they could go home.

“I’m Stiles, by the way,” the Beta man, Derek’s obvious mate, held up a hand in awkward greeting.

“Lydia Martin,” Lydia smiled.

“Christ,” Cora said, clearly annoyed at even the hint of pleasantries. She took Lydia’s arm and Lydia allowed herself to be marched out of her parents’ house.

Outside, the air was cold. Lydia was glad of the sable coat though she imagined it would likely be sold soon enough. Cora took a deep breath and looked up and down the street checking for bystanders. Lydia had no idea what time it was but there were rarely any pedestrians on her parents’ street. The sun was hidden by clouds, unhelpful.

“We can’t chance a cab, not like this,” Lydia knew she meant the scent between them. They smelled like each other, like heat and sex and… not filthy but very far from clean. They might as well drive straight to the police station if they tried to contain it in a cab. “Are you good to walk?”

“There’s a reason I wore comfortable shoes.” Lydia said. She’d walk all the way to New York rather than separate from Cora right now, even for a cab ride.

Cora nodded and they started walking. Lydia stayed as close to Cora as she could, ignoring the stares of strangers around them. She was very aware of how she smelled, of the heat still lingering below her skin. Cora’s proximity helped control it but other people could smell them too. If they smelled Cora on her, would they call the police, or worse try and rescue Lydia from her mate?

Cora’s own nerves rippled off her, almost as strong at the scent. She scanned the road in front of them, looked back at Lydia to make sure she was still there, then glanced behind to check on Derek and Stiles, then back to Lydia, and repeated the process again from the beginning. Lydia hoped she wasn’t that painfully obvious when investigating actual criminals.

They were about half way to the Hale apartment when Stiles, Derek’s mate, asked where they were going.

 “Home.” Cora said, without stopping.

“The same home those cops kicked in and arrested you in? That one?” Stiles said and Lydia stared at Cora. She’d known her father and The Blakes promised to inform the authorities but they’d been to the apartment? They’d arrested her mate? Anger swelled in her chest even as the beta man kept talking. “Look, Grandma Martin got those assholes off your case for now-”

“When was Grandmere there?” Lydia demanded, looking at Cora. She’d vaguely remembered other voices during her heat fever, but only Cora’s had been identifiable. She’d deduced that Allison must have been there, having alerted Cora to the situation. Derek must have come with Cora but Lydia had no idea how Stiles fit into it. He simply smelled like Derek so she accepted him. Now apparently her grandmother had seen her, crazed from prolonged heat, begging Cora to fuck her. Lydia wished the earth would swallow her whole.

“If they found you once, they can find you again.” Stiles said, shattering her embarrassment in a thousand pieces. “They might do worse than arrest you.”

Cora growled but Lydia knew it meant nothing. Her mate would fight. Cora was a fighter, in everything she did, but that didn’t mean she’d win.  Much as Lydia loved her brave, ferocious Alpha, Cora couldn’t take on the entire police force and walk away, assuming they ever gave her a chance to fight.

“He’s got a point,” She squeezed Cora’s shoulder, trying to fit every ounce of love and concern in that one gesture. _Please be sensible. I need you with me. Please, Cora._

Cora leaned slightly into the touch and sighed. She closed her eyes in a pinched, irritated expression. “Where are we supposed to go then?”

“My Dad’s place is a few blocks over,” Stiles said. “They’re not gonna kick in the Sheriff’s door without a warrant.”

Derek’s mate was the Sheriff’s son. Cora’s liberation from arrest suddenly made a lot more sense though Lydia still couldn’t see where her grandmother fit into it. And wasn’t Derek’s mate killed in the war? Lydia could have sworn Cora said he was.

The Hale siblings had a brief conference that consisted entirely of furrowed brows and Cora relented. “Fine.” She said and gestured for Stiles to lead the way.

The Sheriff’s home seemed to be an exact median between the Hale apartment and the Martin townhouse. It was cute and unassuming, tidy and without adornments. Stiles ascended the steps, two at a time, with his key poised for the front door. It opened without any prompting and a short woman with long black curls stood on the other side.

“Thank god,” she said and pulled Stiles into a fierce hug. “You’re alright?”

“We’re okay,” Stiles said and flinched as she smacked him upside the head.

“Worried us half to death!” She glared and then stepped back into the house. “Get inside, all of you! You weren’t followed?”

“No,” Stiles said as they all hurried into the bright, cheerful house.

“Thank god,” the woman said again. She turned to the rest of them, nervously smoothing her white apron. “My name is Melissa McCall. Stiles and Scott are my sons. I think I know who you are,” she pointed to each of them as she said their names. “Lydia, Cora and Derek.” Derek’s name came out with a deeper, almost ominous tone. Derek swallowed and Lydia thought she saw him step slightly back towards the locked door.

“How do you-” Cora’s question was interrupted, and answered, by the arrival of Allison. She and Scott came down the long stair case hand in hand. Allison abandoned her mate almost immediately to embrace Cora and Lydia.

“You’re alright?” She asked , running her smooth hands over Lydia’s cheeks as if checking for injuries. “We can trust them, I promise. I had to tell them-”

“It’s fine,” Cora said. She squeezed Allison’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

Allison nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Your father’s in the kitchen,” Melissa McCall told Stiles who stood directly between Derek and Scott, almost shielding his mate’s body. Scott’s kind face was set in a hard line as he looked at the Alpha, who had noticeably hunched.

Melissa led them down a long hallway to the kitchen, with her sons behind her, Derek sticking very close to Stiles and the girls bringing up the rear. Lydia leaned over to Allison. “Please tell me exactly what’s going on?”

Allison took a small breath. “Stiles is Scott’s brother and I went to him to help find Cora since he’s often in the speakeasies. The police arrived just after we found Cora and arrested her and Derek. Scott and Stiles followed them to the police station to try and get them released.”

“Because the sheriff is their father?” Lydia said.

Allison nodded. “I went to your grandmother’s and she agreed to bail them out and to talk to your father. Do you remember that?”

“Heat.” Lydia said bitterly.

“Yes,” Allison said, “while you two were… busy, Scott and I kept a look out for the Blakes. They didn’t try anything but we went to their house-”

“Where?” Cora asked in a very dangerous voice.

“No.” Lydia pinched her hard. “Go on.”

“And they were inside, talking with their beastly mother. They’re planning something but I couldn’t find out what.” She frowned deeply. “Also, Derek and Stiles are mates but Stiles believed Derek died in the war, I guess?” She looked to Cora for corroboration.

The Alpha woman glowered. “Never said anything to me about it.” She looked less murderous but only slightly. “Never mind we been working on the Opium case together for a couple weeks now. Not that Derek’s exactly forthcoming either.”

Allison sighed and gave Lydia’s hand a squeeze. “Any questions?”

“A thousand but they can wait,” Lydia said. They’d arrived at the kitchen where a beta man who could only be the Sheriff was looking Derek over with an unreadable expression. Stiles stood next to his mate, in the same protective posed he’d used with Scott.

The Sheriff looked up as they arrived and smiled grimly. “It’s good to see you outside of a cell, Miss Hale. May I presume you’re Lydia Martin, miss?”

Lydia nodded and took the offered hand.

“Sheriff Noah Stilinski,” he said, by way of introduction. “I don’t uh- want to be indelicate but there’s a guest room off the hall if you get… ill again.”

He’d blushed bright red and Lydia managed to hold back her chuckles. “I should be fine, sir, thank you. Thank you for helping Cora.”

The Sheriff shrugged. “I only unlocked the cell. You have a very forceful grandmother. Please, sit.”

He had filled the small kitchen with eight chairs of varying designs. Melissa McCall busied herself with a pot of coffee. “We also have water or tea,” she said.

“Nothing, thank you,” Lydia said, nervously.

“I’ll get it, Mom,” Scott said, guiding her to the chair. Melissa sat and fiddled nervously with the ring on her finger. Allison sat next to her and Lydia and Cora. Derek chose the spot closest to his sister but kept his eyes on the door. Stiles took his mate’s hand and watched as his father sat back at the head of the small kitchen table.

“Alright,” the Sheriff said in a sigh. “Somebody tell me exactly what is going on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More sex and some angst!  
> Also Sheriff Stilinski and Melissa McCall.  
> Comments are appriciated!


	16. Chapter 16

They told him everything. Cora spoke more than she ever had to a stranger, much less a cop. The Sheriff listened. She held Lydia’s hand the entire time, keeping the heat at bay.

Cora was acutely grateful that the Hales were the only Alphas in the room. If another Alpha came within sniffing distance of her mate for the next week, she’d have to kill them. This quiet little house had no threat to Lydia Everyone else radiated calming beta pheromones. The Sheriff felt implicitly trustworthy. He already knew the deepest level of her depravity, corrupting Lydia, and he’d accept it. He’d accepted them.

“So,” he said, with an eyebrow raised at Stiles, “you’ve been running around with Opium smugglers, huh?”

Stiles swallowed. “Only so we could bring them down?”

“And what were you doing before Cora contacted you?”

“Bidding my time?” He smiled weakly, trying to see if the ruse would work. Beside him, Derek appeared to be shrinking in on himself. He’d been uncomfortable since they entered the house but anytime the Sheriff glanced in his direction, he might have been facing the noose.

The Sheriff sighed deeply. He turned back to Cora. “Thank you for keeping my son alive, despite his best efforts.”

“I didn’t really…” but he waved her off.

“Yukimura was right to contact you. We’re not often on the same side but she’s right. We can’t have opium in Beacon Hills and my officers are not adept in infiltration. Officially, I can’t endorse a civilian investigation but I’d appreciate it if you’d continue.”

“Really?” Stiles stared.

“Actually, I’d appreciate it if you, Stiles, locked yourself in your bedroom until all crime had been eliminated and then took up a quiet book keeping position in the dustiest library available,” the Sheriff said with a glare, “but since you’re not going to do that, you might as well help out.”

“Okay,” Stiles said, glancing uncertainly at Cora.

“He’s been useful,” she said. “We wouldn’t have an investigation without him. Having a man on the inside’s been invaluable.”

“Aw, Cora,” Stiles beamed at her. Cora glared back. Stiles’ hand was white where Derek gripped it. Her brother had listened to their story without comment, likely due to the Sheriff’s presence. He had visibly paled though as Cora told them the nature of the Nōgitsune’s business, his methods for dealing with enemies. Derek hadn’t looked healthy since the war. Now he looked like a fresh corpse.

“I know Yukimura said not to involve the police.” The Sheriff said. “I know why too, given our history with Little Tokyo.”

“Not to mention how fast guys like that get out of jail,” Cora said before she could stop herself. The Sheriff merely shrugged.

“Believe me, you’re preaching to the choir there. Regardless, I am involved.” He looked at his son. “I got involved the moment Stiles did. I’m glad I found out about it eventually. You’ve got the full use of my department, if you want it.”

“I’m not a huge fan of cops right now. Or ever. No offense.” She added awkwardly.

“That’s understandable,” The Sheriff said, “but I think you need us in this case. Unless you were planning on killing these people.”

 _It’s the only way to stop guys like that._ Cora thought before she could stop herself. She remembered the shrugs at the police station after the fire. The desk sergeant told them the investigation would be through but doubted they’d ever get any charges. The fire happened in the middle of the day, in a crowded street, obviously deliberately set. If someone was gonna come forward, they said, someone would have.

No one ever did. The cops barely kept them informed, unless Laura went down to the station and demanded information, with Derek as alpha male back up. For years, every time Cora smelled smoke, she wondered if it was the same person who lit a match and destroyed her life.  

Still, she couldn’t quite tell the Sheriff in his own house that she intended to kill Nōgitsune because cops were useless. Talia never managed to install cordiality into her youngest but even Cora could be practical.

“Well,” the Sheriff said. “That’s something we can attend to later. I think… um,”

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. Lydia had pressed her forehead into Cora’s neck a few minutes ago, nuzzling softly into her skin. She was clearly making a valiant effort not to moan, one which would fail very quickly.

“I’ll show you that guest room,” Melissa offered.

Cora nodded, lifting Lydia with her as she stood. The Omega girl murmured against her neck as they walked down the long hallway. Cora was aware of the eyes on them but couldn’t quite bring herself to care. Lydia was safe. Lydia needed her. Nothing else mattered.

Melissa slipped a key onto the dresser, in case they wanted to lock the door. “I’ll get some food prepared if you need it.” She promised with a small smile.

“Thank you,” Cora said, meaning it more than she could say.

Melissa nodded, closing the door behind her.

Cora lay Lydia down on the patchwork quilt. Rather than allow her to pull back, Lydia grabbed hold of her lapels, pulling her down.

“Lydia,” Cora whispered, her words muffled in a sloppy kiss.

“Please,” Lydia said, “My head hurts. It’s getting hazy again, Cora, please.”

Cora kissed her, loosening the buttons on her dress. “Just let me lock the door.” She said. “Just a few more seconds.”

“No…” Lydia moaned petulantly but lacked the strength to stop her. It hurt to leave her there, writing on the bed, even to lock the door. No one had slept in this room for months, if not years. Now that they were alone, without any scent to distract them, Lydia filled Cora to the brim.

She shed the dress on the way back to bed. Lydia was already naked, having squirmed out of her dress while Cora locked the door. Cora took her breast in one hand, leaning forward to bury her face between the two.

“I love you,” Lydia whispered. “I didn’t tell you before but it’s true. I love you more than anything.”

“I know,” she slid up Lydia’s body, kissing her neck. “I know, sweet girl, I love you too.”

She let her fingers trail down the curve of Lydia’s hips, slow and teasing. The Omega leaned against her. Her fingers curled in Cora’s hair, clenching hard enough to hold but never to hurt. “Please,” she whispered, “Please, Cora!”

“We got all night,” Cora said. Lydia’s cunt was warm around her fingers. The slightest movement made the Omega girl shiver, whine against Cora’s skin. “It’s ten in the morning and we got all night, Lydia.”

“Don’t-” she gasped softly as Cora slipped deeper inside of her. “Don’t tease me… please!”

“I’m not.” Cora pressed against her, forcing Lydia onto her back. Balancing on her elbow, Cora watched her mate writhe beneath her. Her pale face had flushed deep crimson, almost as deep as her hair, loose and tangled against the pillow. Her hazel eyes shone, glossy with pleasure but still as sharp as before. Lydia reached down, gripping Cora’s wrist, forcing her fingers further inside.

“Fuck, I love you.”

This, this was it. This was what her parents had. This was all the stories she’d poured over as a kid, never believing she’d be allowed into this world. This was Alpha and Omega, everything it was meant to be. Her and Lydia, together. Mates. Their bodies, their souls, everything they had belonged to each the other.

 Everything else was detail, decoration that could be dropped or ignored any way they liked.

“Cora,” Lydia said her name like a prayer. Cora leaned in and kissed her again.

“We’ve got all day,” she whispered, unable to keep the wonder out of her voice. “We got all night. We got tomorrow and the next day. We got forever.”

Her lips brushed against Lydia’s neck as she spoke. She could taste Lydia’s heat, her sweat, somehow sweet and salty at the same time. “We’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna be safe. They did their worst and it wasn’t enough, Lydia. I got you.”

Lydia stilled under her fingers. Cora lifted her head to look at her. Her eyes had cleared, staring at Cora incredulously. She was trembling. “Cora…”

“I promised. I won’t let anyone hurt you like that again.” Cora said. “I meant it. We’re safe. I’ll keep you safe.”

Lydia nodded. “Can you- please? I need you, Cora. Your mouth, please…”

“Yeah,” Cora smiled. She leaned forward and kissed Lydia’s cheek before sliding down between her legs. Lydia’s thighs pressed close on her cheeks, trembling still as Cora licked into her. Her hands were in her hair, holding her still.

* * *

 

“Cora,” Lydia whispered over and over again. Her mate was below her, inside her. They were safe, surrounded by people who’d gladly flouted the law and social convention for them. Cora thought it would last. Lydia wished she could believe it.

The heat was fading now. Cora had brought her to completion so often, so easily, that they only had to wait it out now. Lydia’s mind belonged to her now, even with the warmth and pleasure still coursing through her body. The future still existed though.

Less than twenty four hours ago, Lydia had been out of her mind on heat. Her father had tied her two the bed. The two men she hated most in the world waited for her to call for an alpha, any alpha, so they could legally rape her. Cora saved her. Cora saved her but only at the last moment.

They’d try again. They’d try again and again. Forcing Lydia to endure a heat unaided, putting Cora in jail. These were just the tips of the iceberg. Why?

Why her? Out of all the eligible omega girls, why pursue the willful, flighty oddball who actively despised them? The Blakes weren’t stupid. Yes, the Martin family was rich but there were plenty of rich omega girls in California.

Maybe money was all they wanted from her. Maybe they would give up, after Lydia was disowned. Grandmere had money but she wasn’t making any, like Father with his business and investments. Maybe the reward of having Lydia was finally dwarfed by the trouble of pursuing her.

She tightened her fingers around Cora’s hair. If her alpha noticed a change in the heat, she didn’t comment. In fact she’d sped up, distracting Lydia from her dark thoughts.

 _There’s a beautiful girl between your legs,_ Lydia told herself. _She loves you. She’s risked everything to be with you. The least you can do is-_

“Cora,” Lydia moaned as the Alpha temporarily drove all thought from her head. Her mate only went deeper, unrelenting, demanding full attention. Her nails curled into Lydia’s ass, the sweetest hurt she ever felt. Lydia shook against her. Her legs tightened, pulling Cora further in. She came with a small shriek and dissolved back onto the bed.

Cora slid up her body to rest her head on Lydia shoulder. She smirked, satisfied at the quivering Omega. “You good?”

For a moment, Lydia couldn’t speak. Cora watched her with soft brown eyes, her lips still glistening in the soft gas light. Lydia pushed her dark hair back behind her ear.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you believe that? That we’re safe?”

“Yes,” Cora nodded. “Don’t you?”

“I wish I could,” Lydia murmured. She brushed her fingers down the curve of Cora’s cheek. “I think we’re safe here, in this room, together. But everything else still exists outside. My parents… the Blakes…”

Cora growled softly and Lydia had to laugh. “You can snarl all you like, Alpha, it’s still true.”

Cora pressed her forehead up on Lydia’s chest. She closed her eyes and smiled. “I like it when you call me Alpha. I like when you smell like me.”

“I like it too.” Lydia admitted, smiling back.  

Cora went serious, soft and quiet. She ran her fingers along Lydia’s fingers, gently tracing her knuckles and nails. “Whatever’s out there,” she whispered, “every thing that’s out there… I don’t care. As long as you smell like this, we’ll be fine.”

“Cora…”

She slid up Lydia’s body and kissed her, chaste on her cheek. “We’ll be fine,” she said again and, for that briefest of moments, Lydia could believe her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after a year, I think I can just waltz back in here with some angst femslash and we'll be fine?
> 
> Kinda?


	17. What did I miss?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter by chapter summary of Sweetest Subtefuge if you don't want to reread everything else, or you want to skip around to the good bits. 
> 
> SPOILERS Obviously

**Chapter 1**

Wealthy Omega Lydia Martin, seeks her prize fighter lover, Alpha Cora Hale to alleviate her heat. They fuck.

**Chapter 2**

Lydia goes back to her friend Allison’s house, only to find her in bed with mate Scott McCall. Everyone is cute

**Chapter 3**

Cora goes home too, and finds her alcoholic Uncle Peter berating her depressed veteran brother Derek. They toss Peter out of their dingy apartment and no one is cute.

**Chapter 4**

Lydia is forced by social convention and her parents to meet with eligible Alpha Bachelors: Aiden and Ethan Blake. She spills boiling tea on Aiden when he gets too fresh and is subsequently grounded by her parents.

**Chapter 5**

Lydia’s father berates her and takes away her books. Lydia and Allison sneak out to a speakeasy where they meet up with Cora and her friends, Boyd and Erica. Lydia and Cora must sneak away when they see Ethan Blake also frequents the speakeasy and might expose their illegal relationship. Cora takes Lydia to the Hale apartment and they have sex.

**Chapter 6**

Peter is a dick bag and Lydia meet Derek for the first time!

**Chapter 7**

Lydia and Derek bond. Derek tells Cora about his mate who died in the Great War (see Shrapnel)

**Chapter 8**

The Blakes blackmail Lydia into accepting Aiden’s courting while Lydia tries to figure a way out of it without sending Cora to jail. Trigger Warning: mentions of dub con

**Chapter 9**

Noshiko Yukimura hires Cora and Boyd to investigate the import of opium into Beacon Hills.

**Chapter 10**

Lydia and Lydia’s Grandmother Lorraine come out to each other. Lorraine promises to help Cora and Lydia

**Chapter 11**

Cora investigates the opium trade. She and Lydia discuss options for their future, like potentially leaving the country.

**Chapter 12**

Cora and Lydia have sex because sex is fun. Cora and Boyd’s investigation leads them to a sake bar in Little Tokyo where they meet Stiles, a beta close to the Nōgitsune a mysterious gangster importing opium, who agrees to help them for unknown reasons (Shrapnel)

**Chapter 13**

**Trigger Warning:** massive dub con talk and abuse

Lydia’s heat hits and the Blakes reveal her relationship with Cora to her father. He responds by tying her to her bed, forcing her to suffer through her heat without any relief until she accepts Aiden as her mate. If she calls for an alpha, she’ll be legally bound to whoever answers that call.

As she suffers under the fever, Lydia remembers her first time with Cora and comforting her mate after Laura Hale’s death.

**Chapter 14**

**Trigger Warning:** violence, abuse and mentions of Dub Con

Allison tracks Cora down and tells her of Lydia’s situation. Stiles and Derek, long lost mates, are reunited. Before they can go save Lydia, the police arrest Cora on the Blakes’s orders and arrest Derek for attempting to help his sister. Allison brings Lydia’s grandma to the Sheriff’s station for bail money and the Hales are released. They rush to Lydia’s aid, saving her in the nick of time. Lydia and Cora have all of the sex.

**Chapter 15**

A continuation of all of the sex.

Also they all leave the Martin house and go to the Sheriff’s place to discuss backstory.

**Chapter 16**

After catching everybody up, the Sheriff promises to help them. Lydia and Cora bone and talk about their futures. 


End file.
